Author's Note: Here's something that I've been working on for the last few months, on and off. I've got a few chapters finished, but it's more of a serial than a story that will take a while to complete. Photo Credit: Amey M.

Episode One

Kelsey double checked my third suitcase to make sure there was no boy contraband squirreled away, and she didn’t look too happy about it.

“Kevin… Kayla, I swear, if you make Mom look bad I’ll make sure you wind up staying a girl permanently… the hard way.”

My sister worshiped the ground my mother walked on. “I promised, I even signed a contract. Get over it.”

She snorted in disgust. “Yeah, just like you promised to get a part time job every school break since you turned sixteen, and like you promised to help out with the gardening, and how you promised to wash my car when I take you and your slacker friends to the mall. We both know how well you kept those. Need I go on?”

We’d been over this, having the same conversation time and again for the previous four weeks, ever since I started making my transition from an average nobody guy into a college co-ed. My grades were good, better than most, but not quite good enough to attract an academic scholarship. I wasn’t into sports, the military, or volunteer efforts. My family was white, lower middle-class, and conservative. In other words it was the kiss of death. If I wanted to go to college then I needed financial aid.

That’s where my mother came in. She was very proud to call herself a mother and homemaker. She didn’t hold down a job, because her home and children were her job. However, she did have connections in one area and it took her calling in every favor she was ever owed in order to get me into the running for the scholarship that I eventually won.

The Society for the Promotion of Feminine Values was a group of mostly angry, rich old women from the sixties that didn’t like what they were seeing in society. Every year they chose an overly effeminate girly-girl to send to college to earn a ladylike degree, like dance, art, teaching and other traditionally feminine stereotype jobs.

Most of the time they chose people from our church, but anyone was eligible as long as they passed muster. There was one flaw in the rules for the scholarship; it didn’t state that there was a gender requirement.

I was the one that pointed that out to my mom. She was the one that pointed out all the other requirements including the standards I had to maintain in order to receive continued assistance. After looking them over, I remember laughing at the main rule. It was in legalese so I’ll decipher it for you. Whoever received the scholarship had to look like a feminine girl, promote feminine values, and remain that way for as long as she received assistance from the Society.

Knowing a number of girls that looked, dressed, and acted like boys, I thought it would be a cakewalk… and I was desperate. It’s the latter part that pushed me to do what needed to be done in order to win.

My family lived in a small city. The unemployment rate was pushing fifteen percent in the area. There were no jobs for kids fresh out of high school, and unless you had the money to move to another city, the only other option was the military. Joining the Army scared the crap out of me. I wasn’t mister muscles or anything, far from it actually.

Then I realized exactly what all that legalese boiled down to. Mom whipped out the semi-secret standards that the Society used to judge applicants. That was one of the favors she had pulled. That was also when I started to question how serious I was. The requirements weren’t just dressing in androgynous clothing and wearing your hair long.

I stepped back from the bed and pointed at myself. “Do I look like I’m not taking this promise seriously? I had electrolysis done on my face, Kelsey.”

That wasn’t the only thing either. Mom was well known in the community for her volunteer work. She called in favors from all over: donated clothes, bags, hair extensions, fake boobs, feminine services like makeovers, and nail extensions. You name it; if it had to do with making me the most girly person on the planet then Mom knew someone that knew someone that would help out.

My sister frowned at me once she gave me the once-over. I looked more like a girl than she did. Not that I was better looking or anything. She was wearing shorts, a cami, and tennis shoes. Her hair was in a messy bun and she barely had any makeup on. I was in a gray heather fold-over knit knee skirt with ruffle-front banded bottom blouse in a black and white leopard print. The Not Rated Tough Cookie 2 with the one inch platform and four inch heels were the difficult portion of the outfit. I didn’t like platforms; they made me feel off balance more than the heels themselves.

On top of all of this, my hair was coiffed in a relaxed curl off my shoulders and down to the middle of my back, my nails were perfectly manicured with half-inch tips, and my makeup was complete, not just thrown on so I would look less hideous. Dangly earrings, bangles, and decorative but simple rings all finished the useless girly person that stood before my sister. I was arm candy, meant to be looked at and admired. In other words, I wasn’t dressed for moving things from my home to school.

“No,” she finally admitted. “You look serious enough for now. I just don’t see how you plan to keep that look up and especially walk around, on campus, in shoes like those. You’ll have blisters in less than a day.”

I half-chuckled and then changed it to a giggle, because girls weren’t supposed to chuckle. “This is just for the trip up there. I have more appropriate clothes for campus wear. You can borrow some if you want. It wouldn’t hurt for you to look a little more feminine.”

Kelsey rolled her eyes, scoffing at me. “Please, save your Society spiel for someone that actually cares, Kayla.”

I shrugged. “I have to promote femininity every day. It’s part of the scholarship requirements.”

Flipping my suitcase closed, she zipped it up. “Well, promote it on someone else. I’m not interested. I’m an actual girl that doesn’t have to live by a strict male-dominated sense of style that went out in the eighties. You’re just a poseur who took a real girl’s chance at a college education.”

With that, she scowled and left my room in a huff. I had a very faint idea that Kelsey might be a tad bit bitter over having to put up with my mom’s directions concerning me. I was going to be rooming with her in an off campus apartment and Kelsey was supposed to make sure I was following all the rules.

I spent the remainder of my time making sure I had all of my incidentals. Mom went all out and traded in my old cell phone for one that was sparkly and red. I think that was supposed to be a joke. Dad loaded up the SUV and before I knew it Mom was tearing up in the driveway.

“You remembered everything? Your makeup, your extra breast forms, your tampons and liners?”

I started turning red from embarrassment. Even though I wouldn’t be using them, I had to have them for other girls that might have forgotten theirs. There were some pretty weird rules for girls to follow. One that I still wasn’t sure about was the extra pair of panties I was supposed to carry around in my purse. I mean, what’s up with that?

“I’ve got everything, Mom.”

“Come on,” Kelsey snapped from the passenger side of the SUV. “We’re going to be late.”

Mom frowned in her direction. “Mind your sister. She’s been through all of this and she can guide you properly.”

“I will.”

After leaning and kissing the side of my mouth, Mom smiled at me. “You look so pretty, Kayla. I’m very proud that you are taking all of this so seriously.”

“I am, Mom. I won’t let you down.”

~O~

Nothing I did on the ride up pleased Kelsey. She whined that I put too much perfume on and it was stinking up the car. She scoffed every time I called Dad, Daddy. She nearly had a hissy fit when we stopped for drinks and he held my door open for me. While my father wasn’t all gung-ho about how I was going about getting an education, he did his part when Mom asked him to treat me like a lady so that I’d blend in better at school. It was strange at first, not opening my own doors or carrying anything more than five pounds of… anything.

Kelsey would rant about how real girls didn’t act like me, or dress like me, or pretty much do anything like how I was told I was supposed to do things. I was an embarrassment to modern women, setting back women’s suffrage, blah, blah, blah. It all went in one of my twice pierced ears and out the other. The main issue was that I would do what it would take to get an education, even if it meant acting like someone I wasn’t.

When we finally reached the apartment I was more than happy to take my makeup case and find my room. Dad brought everything else in for me while I unpacked and started setting things up. If I couldn’t have the posters that normally adorned my walls as home — which consisted of scantily clad female singers, cheerleaders, and models — I went to my other passion which was writing. It was that which won me my scholarship after all.

Along with the application was an essay about how I looked at contemporary women. I wrote a compare and contrast between my sister and Elizabeth Bennet, the lead character of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. As an afterthought, perhaps that’s why Kelsey has been so upset with me. My conclusion was that a woman could be independent, strong, assertive, commanding, and be feminine at the same time, that today’s women had lost something along the way that was very important in defining their gender and keeping it noticeable separate from their opposites.

The old ladies at the Society ate it up. It wasn’t the application that won me the scholarship, it was the essay. Seeing as how I wanted to be a writer, a good feminine field of study — though I don’t see how considering the field was traditionally dominated through the centuries by men — they pushed my application straight through.

That’s why I had a very large poster of Pride and Prejudice, the Keira Knightley version — I am a guy underneath my skirt after all — adorning my wall.

From my room, I could hear a heated discussion in Kelsey’s room, over what, I only had to guess. She wasn’t going to make it easy for me.

I love my sister, but sometimes she can be a real bitch.

Dad came in and gave me a hug before he left which began my first day as a girl with no reminders of my male past, well if you don’t count my sister that is.

~O~

After I had my room sorted, I moved to the main room and kitchen, wiping down everything as Mom had taught me. Not only did I get to learn to act like a woman, I had to learn keeping a house as well. The refrigerator and cupboard were bare, but we had a minor food allowance for snacks, coffee, sodas -- all the important things for a student. Real meals were to be taken at one of many cafeterias across campus which was paid for as part of my scholarship.

While I was running the dishes though the washer, a knock came at the front door. Hastily, I set aside my apron and checked my hair at the mirror by the door. I didn’t look too disheveled.

When I opened the door I was met by a tall blond guy wearing a pair of running shorts and a loose tank, sweating profusely.

“Hey… uh… I don’t know you,” he said mildly out of breath.

“I’m Kayla. Are you looking for Kelsey?”

He grinned. His eyes ran down to my only exposed skin, my legs. “Uh, yeah; she in?”

I held up a finger. “Just a minute.”

Leaving the door ajar, I went to knock on Kelsey’s door.

“What!” she said from the other side.

“There’s a guy here to see you.”

I heard something fall from inside and the door swung open. “Move!”

Already in the process of stepping aside, Kelsey ran out and jumped on the random guy, not caring if he got her outfit wet from his perspiration. I was kind of grossed out. She straddled him and proceeded to vacuum his tongue out with her mouth. I just blinked at the scene and headed back to the kitchen.

“Hey hold on,” Kelsey said. She was still hanging on to the random guy pointing at me. “Brandon, that’s Kayla, my brother. Kayla, Brandon.”

My eyes widened at her announcement. I could already feel my cheeks starting to redden.

“What?” he chuckled. “You mean, sister?”

Kelsey shook her head. “Nope, he’s a freak. It was the only way the slacker could get into college, by dressing like some fifties chick and annoying the hell out of me.”

I didn’t say a word. Anything that was going to come out of my mouth was going to contain massive amounts of profanity, and I wasn’t allowed to cuss. The words I was allowed to use were so stupid that I refused to even do that. Instead, I went my room, closed and locked my door, and then I fumed as I paced back and forth.

My face was burning with embarrassment and I couldn’t let it out. I couldn’t scream or throw things. Instead, I sat down on the only chair in the room, at the desk.

“This was a stupid idea. Why did I think I could get away with this? By morning the whole college will know I’m a guy in drag, all thanks to my loving sister.”

After taking a deep breath, I let it out and tried to reorganize everything. I had two choices. I could give up and call Dad to come pick me up and return the scholarship money. Since it hadn’t been spent yet I was still golden. My second option was to make the bad situation all mine. Embracing my being out of the closet with a spotlight shined on me was terrifying. Everybody would think I was gay or transgender or whatever it is. I’d have to be pretty up front with everything.

The problem was I couldn’t date a girl. That was one of the big rules of the Society, no lesbian relationships. While technically it wouldn’t be two girls involved, it still amounted to the same thing. Honestly, I hadn’t planned on dating at all. I was going to college to study and pass all of my classes with the highest scores possible so as to make my job prospects in a big city viable. If I dated anyone it would have to be a guy, which just wasn’t going to happen.

That meant that if I talked about my sexuality in public I’d have to say that I was heterosexual and leave it at that. I couldn’t even specify that I liked girls, because I was supposed to be one.

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on my bedroom door. What I really didn’t need was a laughing in my face moment brought to me by my sister.

I grabbed the knob and opened it fast, almost screaming, “What!” in Brandon’s face.

His demeanor was rigid and angry. My next thought was I hoped he wasn’t some gay basher.

“Kayla, right?” he said stiffly.

I nodded.

“Right… well, I’m sorry about that… what happened I mean. I already told Kelsey off.”

I blinked and gave my head a minute shake, trying in vain to clear the cobwebs. “What?”

He rolled his eyes upward. “My brother is gay, so I know a little bit about how to not open the closet door on someone that isn’t ready for it. I did it to my brother and within the week he had the crap kicked out of him. He spent three days in the hospital and two guys went to jail over it.”

The tension in my shoulders ebbed away and I suddenly felt bad for Brandon and his brother. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “He forgave me and anyway… look, I’m not going to tell anyone and I made Kelsey promise to keep her mouth shut until you were ready to do it yourself, okay?”

I nibbled the inside of my lip and just nodded in return. “Thanks.”

A smile returned to his face. “Just to let you know, you had me fooled.”

My face heated up again and I looked away.

“Anyway, we’re going to go get some pizza later, for dinner. You’re welcome to come along if you want. My treat.”

Pizza sounded great. “I don’t want to be a third wheel and I’m sure you and Kelsey want to catch up on… things.”

Brandon’s grin grew brighter. “I could call my roommate and we could make it a double date. I know he’s single.”

That made me almost cough. “Uh, thanks for the offer, but I’m not… I mean to say that, uh…”

I think he caught on because he had that dawned-on face. “Oh, you’re a lesbian. Sorry.”

I sighed, because I had to refute that claim. Odds are the Society would never hear about it, but if they did then I’d be up a creek. “No… I’m not. It’s hard to explain. I’m heterosexual.”

His eyes narrowed as he tried to decipher what I was saying. “Sooo which do you date guys or girls?”

“Did, Kelsey explain my situation?”

He shook his head. “No, it was pretty much me being angry at what she did to you out there.”

“It’s a long story for another time, but I can date guys. I’m just not here to date. I want to concentrate on school, not social stuff.”

“Oh, okay. Well, if you change your mind….” He let that trail off while I smiled back at him. “You’re going to have a hard time of it, by the way.”

Cocking my head at him I gave him my curious face.

“You’re hot. If you don’t have a boyfriend then all the other guys are going to be hitting on you. You really need a fraternity pin or a shiny rock on that ring finger to keep them away and you can only get those one way.”

Apparently my face had this amazing ability to go hot and cold then back to hot again in a split second. Thank god he left soon after.

~O~

Two days later I’m registered, Kelsey just flat out isn’t talking to me or acknowledging my existence whatsoever, my books are bought for my six classes, and I had a very relaxing manicure and pedicure all on the dime of the Society. After the first three, I was getting used to them and almost enjoyed setting the next appointment.

As a guy, I had relatively hard soles from running around barefoot a lot as a kid. After the third pedicure they were soft and virtually delicate looking. If they were a little less manly in appearance I think I’d pass with flying colors.

I spent the afternoon reading ahead for my core classes, trying to get a feel for the subjects I was taking. It wasn’t much different than high school, just more of it.

By the time the morning came I was bushy-tailed and ready to face my first day in class. I went with a kimono sleeve dress with a high vee-neck. Since I didn’t have actual breasts, there wasn’t anything to show off, so my wardrobe choices reflected that. My shoes were thick strapped wedge sandals with a two inch heel in a matching color. They were soft and comfortable. I knew this because they were my second favorite pair of shoes in the heeled variety. I knew I could walk almost all day in them and they wouldn’t kill my feet.

My toes and finger nails matched everything — I’d already planned what I was going to wear for the week in case you’re wondering. With medium sized silver hoops in the front of my earlobe and matching studs in the second tier, I was finished. Oh, I forgot my watch and one ring for each finger. A feminine girl must accessorize for her surroundings. In class it was advisable not to wear bangles or bracelets that bang against the desk.

My Logan backpack by American Living had three textbooks inside and a good sized spiral notebook. It was great because it could double as a purse. I wasn’t looking forward to toting everything around with me. It held my class things, my purse things, and it looked stylish. The Society would be so proud.

I tried not to make any noise as I closed and locked the front door behind me, not because I was trying to be polite, but because Kelsey had overslept and I wanted a little revenge for the incident with Brandon. I figured missing her first class would be a decent start. Apparently I could be a bitch too, who knew?

By the time I made it to English Composition I half the seats were already full, so I took one near the back, pulled out my spiral notebook and a pen.

The empty seat next to me didn’t take long to fill.

“Anyone sitting here?”

I looked up at a boy, someone who, as a nobody guy, would never deign to speak with me. Since I was a decently cute girl the rules had obviously changed for me. I just shook my head.

He made himself comfortable doing much the same as me.

“I’m Derrick.”

I looked up at him again. He was even taller in the seat than me. Most of my height was in my legs. It was a good start for girldom.

“Kayla.”

I crossed my legs and made sure my dress didn’t ride up. Since it was cut right at the knees, there was that danger. I never thought I would ever be so worried about showing a few inches of skin before, but at the moment it was a genuine concern.

“So, what’s your major?”

My lips parted in mild shock. I couldn’t believe I was being hit on in English class of all places.

“Um, English with a minor in Creative Writing.”

He gave me an opening to flirt back which I deftly chose to ignore. Instead, I looked over the syllabus that I’d picked up on the way in.

“I’m a CJ major. That’s criminal justice.”

I just gave him a brief smile back hoping he could take a hint.

“I’m striking out here, aren’t I?”

After licking my lips and tasting the gloss on them I looked at him once more. “It’s nothing against you. I’m sure you’re very manly and all, but I’m here for an education, not a boyfriend.”

“Oh,” he said without losing an ounce of his energy. “Okay.”

With that said he packed up his bag and moved three seats up next to a peroxide blonde who he immediately introduced himself to. That made me frown for a moment and brought a thought to my head.

Why didn’t he just want to sit there and learn, and maybe just be a friend?

“If I promise not to hit on you can I sit here?” a new male voice said.

Looking up, a guy more my speed stood beside the table. He was just an every-guy: brown hair, decent shape, average clothes, and a black JanSport backpack, though after that remark he sounded like he had a decent sense of humor.

“Be my guest.”

He grinned at me and sat his pack on the desk as pulled stuff out for class. “I’m Austin, English major, Creative Writing minor. Please don’t tell me your major or minor as that would be against the no flirting rule.”

I giggled genuinely. “I’m Kayla. Please to meet you.”

~O~

At first I thought Austin was following me to my College Mathematics class, but he pulled off two rooms before mine. I was almost down about that mainly because he didn’t annoy me and I really didn’t want to deal with other guys hitting on me like Derrick. Strangely enough, guess who was in my class again looking at me with confusion like he couldn’t figure out if he had already hit on me or not.

~O~

Lunch consisted of chicken fingers and something that supposed to be gravy but is more like gravy tasting water, and fries. My folder and Math book were out while I completed that day’s assignment before my second English class, Readings in Literature of The Western World, which I was condensing into Western Lit, it was a much less wieldy title.

“I promise I’m not stalking you; we just seem to wind up in the same places.”

At first I thought it might be the unsuccessful flirting guy Derrick, but it was Austin instead.

“Hey.” I giggled again. That was twice I hadn’t forgotten to make it feminine. The odd part was that it was a natural reaction. I didn’t even think about how his sense of humor brought it out of me.

“Expecting any company? Overly aggressive boyfriend, chatty girlfriends, anyone I need to keep an eye out for?”

After I rolled my eyes, I pointed to one of the chairs. “I think you’ll be safe for now.”

Austin set his tray to the side and started pulling out his books. I noticed one was Advanced Calculus which explained why he was two doors down from my Math class earlier. It was good to know he wasn’t really stalking me and everything was probably coincidence.

“Do you mind if I do my work. I don’t want you to think I’m ignoring you or anything,” he said.

That just brought on a relieved smile from me. “I think we’ll work out just fine, Austin.”

He seemed very comfortable with me. I only mention it because as a normal average Joe, I was never comfortable around a pretty girl. Not that I’m saying that I’m egotistical about how I look as a girl. I guess I never explained that did I?

I didn’t automatically go from dull to supermodel looks with a little makeup. I went from dull to pretty. If you put me in a group of girls, I would just blend in. A little taller than most with hair a little longer than average, I didn’t stand out. My best feature was my legs. I lucked out and was able to acquire average breasts… well, below average if you believe that C-cups were the new median among girls. My waist was neatly tucked and my butt was okay, especially with the silicone hip enhancers added for effect.

Anyway, what I’m getting at is we both worked on our assignments with a minimal amount of small talk between subjects. It was comfortable and I had to admit, I enjoyed Austin’s company. It was nice to make a new friend.

At the end of our efforts he stood and shouldered his pack. “Where are you off to now?”

“Western Lit. You?”

His eyes narrow, playfully. “Readings in Literature of the Western World?”

I nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“With Richardson?”

Apparently our schedules matched up and for some reason it made me happy.

~O~

By the time I’d made it back to the apartment, my feet were getting tired of being in heels all day. I kicked them off and rubbed some lotion into the soles giving myself a minor foot rub before changing out of my day wear into a comfortable shorts and t-shirt set. It was one of those shirts that had a neck far too big and wound up hanging off of one shoulder. I really liked the shirt. It was loose and not too warm on the hot August day. I skirted the edge of technical femininity that was laid out by the Society, but the shirt was pink and didn’t have any rude sayings on the front. In fact, it was a college logo that was the only decoration, thus acceptable.

One thing that was starting to bug me was the breast forms. I’d been wearing them for almost two weeks and my chest was itching; only I couldn’t scratch it. I’d go ahead and remove them for cleaning that night, a little earlier than the bottle of adhesive advised, but what the heck. I’d listen to my body before random bottle instructions. The problem was, I had to wait another few hours before I could do that. Since it was still daylight, there was a chance I’d go back out or something would come up where I’d have to leave.

So many rules to follow. This one fell under the category of never threaten your femininity if possible. Not having proper breasts might make people think I wasn’t a girl.

In the meantime, I had classes to study for.

When I went to retrieve a soda from the refrigerator, I heard the front door open and voices in the living room. Sticking my head around the corner, I spotted Brandon and Kelsey, vacuuming each others tongues again.

It was going to be a long frustrating four years without sex. Granted, having my equipment restrained under what amounts to a tight pair of panties doesn’t really do much for my libido. I still got erections like any other seventeen year old boy, meaning about once every twenty minutes. However they were restrained and somewhat uncomfortable when they happened. Everything just got tight. I’m quite sure if my penis could speak it would be down there saying WTF? Okay, if my penis could text message it would probably say that.

Trying to make as little noise as possible, I moved from the kitchen to my room, only to be caught out.

“Kayla,” Brandon said. “Hey.”

Kelsey frowned at me. Like it was my fault she didn’t use her bedroom for their mid-afternoon sex meetings. Brandon was running his eyes up and down my body with a confused and hungry look on his face. I was hoping the hungry part was Kelsey induced.

“Hey,” I said. “Just getting a drink. Go right ahead doing whatever it was you were doing. I’ll close my door.”

I didn’t wait for a reply and kept going until I was safely behind an inch or two of cheap wood.

“That’s my brother, you know,” I heard Kelsey saying. “Quit checking him out.”

“I wasn’t… I was just thinking he passed really well. I don’t want to bone him or anything. My roommate needs a date for the pre-rush party and he’s crap with women…”

Their voices faded off and I assumed they finally went into Kelsey’s room. That’s all I needed, to be set up with a guy.

Trying to put it out of my mind, I sat down and finished off my studies for the day then I read ahead on the stories in my Western Lit reader. About an hour later the grunting, groaning, and moaning stopped. Apparently Brandon had great stamina and I was trying not to vomit from imagining my sister having sex which was blown because guess who came knocking at my door fifteen minutes later?

I eyed her messed up hair and that really satisfied look on her face.

“What?”

She pursed her lips for a moment. “I came to apologize for yesterday.”

I could smell a rat almost as well as the musky odor of sex emanating off of her.

“I’m not going out on a date with his roommate,” I said flatly.

Kelsey made a tch noise with her throat. “Why not? It’s Friday night. That gives you more than enough time to get ready.”

I shot her a look of warning. It didn’t take me three days to get ready for a date. I didn’t wear that much makeup.

“Maybe I haven’t made myself clear. I’m here to study, not to date guys.”

She wasn’t going to give up. “It’s two hours, three at the most and it’s not really even a date. There’ll be like thirty couples there too.”

“Couples, right. There’s the operative word. And even if I agree, which I’m not, you’ll expect more dates later. He’ll expect more dates later. Weren’t you the one that warned me to take this whole thing seriously and not to make Mom look bad? Won’t all of that go down the drain when his roommate wants to get up my skirt?”

“His roommate is gay and in the closet.”

I blinked. “Is Brandon a magnet for this kind of stuff?”

What were the odds that his brother would be gay, his roommate would be gay and the brother of his girlfriend dressed in girl’s clothes and wore fake boobs on her chest that made him itch like crazy? I really had to get Brandon out of the apartment so I could take the darn things off.

“I just found out about it myself. I couldn’t figure out why he was so interested in you of all people.”

Ignoring her verbal jab, I waved her off and went back to my seat. “Most gay people don’t like gender benders, Kelsey. I’d be asking for a really bad time.”

“He’s in the closet, hello. You’d be like his cover date so he’ll look normal.”

“The word you’re looking for is heterosexual. Being gay doesn’t equate to being abnormal.”

“Whatever. Look, do me this favor and I’ll owe you one.”

Kelsey never came to me for favors. It just wasn’t her style. Her asking me for something, especially this big was really out of the ordinary.

“What are you getting out of this?”

Her cheeks pinked for a moment. “It’s private.”

Silence stood between us for almost a full minute before I rolled my eyes. “Does this guy have a humpback or something weird?”

She frowned. “Just a minute.”

Two minutes later, she came in with her cell phone, punching buttons. “Here he is. That’s Austin.”

Kelsey said his name right when she flipped the phone around and there he was. My mouth dropped open.

“Cute, huh? Are you sure you don’t like boys?”

“This is the guy that’s crap with women?” I said with a large amount of disbelief.

“You’re not supposed to cuss, Kayla.”

My head snapped up. “Does he already know about me? Has he seen me?”

Kelsey looked bewildered. “Uh… no.”

I groaned and bent my head down. “This guy is in three of my classes. If this doesn’t go well then it’ll be really awkward. Heck, even if it does go well it’s going to be awkward.”

“So you’ll do it?”

~O~

The next morning at my Dance as Art class — it’s a study of dance, no actual dancing is involved and satisfies one of my core curriculum requirements — Austin was already seated in the back, next to a desk where a single book was sitting. I had a feeling that he was reserving the seat for me, because as soon as I was spotted he grabbed it and I watched as his face turned pink.

As soon as I sat down, he started in with what sounded like a practiced line.

“I didn’t know Brandon was trying to set me up with you, I promise. I didn’t even know who you were until yesterday.”

I eyed him. It was so obvious he was telling the truth. Something told me he had a hard time lying about anything, except probably his sexuality.

“What did he tell you about me?” I asked.

Austin shrugged his shoulders. “Um… that you agreed to be my date to the pre-rush party?”

He sounded uncertain, like he knew I was fishing for more and he knew he was giving me the wrong answer.

“How is it you’re taking freshman courses and you’re already in a fraternity?”

A person actually had to rush a house, be accepted as a pledge, and then finally be accepted as a member before they were part of a frat or a sorority for that matter. It’s a process that could take a few weeks or a couple of months depending on the branch. I’m speaking of social organizations, not academic. I have no idea what’s required to be in one of those.

Austin’s pencil became quite interesting as he couldn’t stop staring at it. “This is technically my second semester and I’m a legacy. I’m still a freshman.”

The legacy thing meant that his father or older brother had been in the same fraternity and he was a shoe-in.

“We can talk about it at lunch.”

He seemed to accept that and relaxed accordingly. We still had three hours or so until our classes were over. That gave me enough time to figure out how I was going to break it to him that I was a guy; logistically speaking of course. I can’t just come out and say anything that denies my femininity. Everything would have to be hypothetical, and I hate talking like that.

We found a private corner of the cafeteria and I filled him in as best as I could. He looked really confused afterward.

“So you’re a guy?” he said.

“I didn’t say that. I was just telling you a hypothetical story.”

“So, you’re not a guy?”

“I didn’t say that either. You do know what the word hypothetical means, right?”

He looked frustrated. “Why don’t we just go find somewhere private so you can tell me what’s going on?”

I smiled and marginally shook my head. “Good girls don’t meet boys in private places. We must keep up appearances. My reputation can’t be sullied.”

“But…” Austin facepalmed, dragging his hands slowly downward. “Are you saying that this Society could be watching us right now?”

With a minor shrug, I swirled a cold French fry in the remainder of my ketchup for something to keep my hands busy. “Probably not, but you should have seen the multiple warnings I received. If I break the rules and word gets back to them then I have to pay everything back. I can’t afford that.”

His eyes trailed over me. “I just can’t believe… I mean you look so convincing and I know some pretty convincing trannies.”

I cleared my throat in an annoyed way. “I’m not a tranny.”

“Sorry.” He saw that he’d hit a nerve. “That’s what they called themselves. Would you prefer crossdresser or another term?”

Dropping my fry on the plate, I reached for my pack. “How about Kayla? I’m a person, not a label, Austin.”

He held out his hand, covering mine on my pack. “I’m sorry. God, you even… nevermind. Look, I’m attracted to more feminine looking guys, but I mean, you’re might as well be a real… a genetic girl.”

I nearly laughed. “I’m not looking to date you, okay? I’m doing a favor for my sister who’s doing one for Brandon. I’m hetero so my dating aspects for the future are rather limited. I thought this might be a decent way to blow off a little steam, to go out with a friend. There’s no romance involved for me here.”

“Oh… you mean you can’t even date girls?”

With a snort I pulled my hand back and set it on my lap. “Especially not girls. Lesbians are a nono.”

“I don’t get that. The only people you can date are guys, but that would imply that you… that this hypothetical person would be forced into a gay relationship.”

“It’s not the spirit of the rules that I’m upholding, it’s the written rules. There are specific things I can do while dating a man only. Other than that, it’s me and my hand.”

He stared at me for a second before finally getting what I was saying. “Oh… I just got a very weird visual.”

This time I did stand up when I grabbed my pack. “I just thought you should know what Brandon’s getting you into. Think about it before you ask me out… if you ask me out.”

~O~

Why did I go through all of that if I didn’t really want to go on a date with a guy in the first place? Part of it was because of the favor for Kelsey. While she wasn’t acting like a loving sister at the moment, she wasn’t always this way. I knew something was behind all of the aggression she had been showing, and until I found out what it was I wasn’t going to give up on her.

Another part was that I thought he deserved to know exactly what he was getting himself into. From what I’ve witnessed, anger is mostly directed onto me from people that are fooled. Men really hate to be fooled, especially by other men dressing up and going out on a date with them. Telling him afterward would be bad. This way everything was aboveboard.

By three o’clock I’d finished my assignments and took a break to tend to maintenance grooming. Being a picture perfect feminine girl took a lot of effort. The plucking, tweezing, filing, rubbing, and a dozen other ‘ings along the way took a measured amount of time and if I didn’t do a little every day then it started to back up and become unmanageable.

That day’s ‘ing was plucking. It wasn’t errant eyebrow hairs I was looking for; it was on every other place on my body that I could reach. Luckily I didn’t possess any back hair.

During the middle of the procedure, my cell rang. The Caller ID only showed the number which wasn’t familiar.

“Hello?”

“Kayla, hey, it’s Austin.”

The nerves in my hands jumped and I dropped my tweezers. I couldn’t believe he actually called me. I was sure by the end of lunch he would stay as far away as decorum would allow.

“Oh… hi, Austin.”

He didn’t waste any time getting straight to the point.

“Look, um, I thought you might want to avoid the cafeteria tonight and maybe catch a pizza. We could talk some more and get a feel about what a real date would be like.”

A pre-date date? Were there such things? If there were, why would I actually want to go on one with another guy?

“Uhh…”

“My treat, of course. We could treat it as a real date and that way if things are too uncomfortable we won’t go through with the party on Friday. That way there’s less people involved and we can… um…”

I almost giggled at his nervousness, but held myself back. “Pizza would be fine, Austin. What time would you like to pick me up?”

“We could leave now if you want?”

I licked my lips. Leave on a date with no preparation whatsoever? Yeah, like that would work.

“I’ll need about an hour and a half to get ready,” I said. “Remember my restrictions?”

A nervous chuckle came back. “Sorry, right. Let’s make it five-thirty and an even two hours. That way you won’t be pressed for time.”

“Five-thirty would be fine. I’ll see you then.”

After I hung up, I had the weirdest sensation of amusement and control. Was that what it was like accepting a date from a girl’s perspective? I remember well the first time I asked a girl out on a date when I was simply Kevin. There was a lot of hand-wringing involved and a nervous feel of rejection on the horizon, but as a girl it was all very amusing listening to a guy trying to be in control. Not in a funny-ha-ha way, but in a that’s cute and endearing way. And by cute, I meant the situation, not the guy. I don’t think guys are cute.

My masculinity was secure enough not only to shave my legs and pluck my eyebrows, but to recognize a good looking guy when I see one without feeling threatened that I was going native.

The extra thirty minutes was a godsend since I had to find something to wear that wasn’t over the top, since it was just a pizza date. There was one rule that I didn’t quite understand. I mean it made a little sense I suppose. Never look less than your best, and it’s always best to be over dressed than under-dressed.

That’s why I chose a violet colored rouched three-quarter sleeved dress. It had a draped neckline and was very clingy, so it showed off my manufactured curves rather well. With that I added a pair of three inch caged-heeled sandals. The rest was accessories, hair work, and nighttime makeup, which I was still iffy about. I very rarely went out at night, so I didn’t have as much experience with eye shadow as I would have liked. After the second failed attempt, I saw it was already five o’clock and I was running out of time.

“Kelsey?”

For once, my sister was sitting at her desk, in her room, doing homework, with the door open. She looked up and her eyes widened a bit.

“Can you help me with my eye shadow? I keep looking like a hooker.”

Her lips parted in shock. “Are you… are you going on a date?”

My neck became suddenly stiff. “Austin wanted to try a pre-date date… thing.”

Her mouth closed again and then opened as she looked me over. “You look good, but those shoes… they’re too last year. Wear the black leather heels instead.”

I cringed. “Those are four inch heels. They hurt my feet.”

Kelsey stood and shooed me out the door. “It’s the price we pay for looking good and they’ll make your butt look better.”

She worked me over without saying a word until the end. As I touched up my lipstick sealant I got the feeling she was acting a little sheepish.

“Thanks for doing this, Kayla.”

I capped off the applicator. “Just a long as this doesn’t turn into a regular thing I’m fine. I really am serious about school.”

Kelsey nodded. “I know. It’s just…”

But she was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it. Wait for two minutes and then come out,” she said. “You’ve got everything you need in your purse?”

“Yeah.”

She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “Good luck tonight, sis.”

Luck? It wasn’t like I was trying to get lucky or anything. Instead of eagerness, I went with conciliatory. “Thanks.”

While I waited, I double-checked my purse. “ID, cash, emergency credit card, panties, touchup makeup, tampon and liner, check.”

I made one last unladylike adjustment and smoothed my dress out before exiting the bedroom. Austin was standing by the door and Kelsey had a serious look on her face that gave way to a forced smile when she heard me. He was wearing a pair of nice jeans and a neat black buttondown.

With the four inch heels, I was exactly his height. If I could only get the stupid things to quit pinching my toes, life would be pretty good.

“Kayla, you look nice.”

Nice? I looked great! Kelsey did an excellent job on my makeup. I busted my butt for two hours to look this good and all I got was, nice? The confused look on his face from before was still there.

When I didn’t say anything in response he gestured to the door. “Were you ready to go?”

“Sure, Austin.”

I shouldered my purse and he held the door open for me. By the time we reached the restaurant, I was still mildly angry for his less than enthusiastic response to all the hard work it took to look more than pretty for our date. Why I was perturbed was a question that was lingering in my head. It wasn’t like I was trying to impress him or anything. I was looking good for myself and for the requirements put forth from the Society. Austin’s approval wasn’t necessary and frankly definitely not wanted.

Turning him on wasn’t on the menu for the evening. Besides, he was gay and I wasn’t. So what the heck was I so upset for?

We were sat and ordered drinks before Austin tried to initiate some conversation. It was small talk and I really hated small talk. It was just fake, so I stopped him.

“Austin, look.” I peered around to make sure we weren’t within eavesdropping range of anyone. “Can we just be friends and not treat this like a date?”

He smiled and sighed. “I’ve been really uncomfortable.”

“I know; me too,” I said.

“I’m just…” He couldn’t say what it was, but I took a guess.

“Not into girls? And I look too much like one?”

“Yeah.”

That let me relax a little. “Good. Because, no matter how this may look, I’m not into guys. You’re good looking and all, for a guy, but I just don’t swing that way.”

“Lipstick lesbian?”

I smirked. “I wish it was that easy. I wouldn’t mind just having the real equipment for the next four years so I could have a real life instead of all this pretending.”

When our drinks came, I crossed my legs and tried to relax.

“Objectively,” he said, “from one gay friend to a friend who is a girl, you look freaking fantastic.

Warmth spread over my chest and flushed up my face. That was what I wanted to hear back at the apartment; appreciation for my efforts. “Thank you. You look very handsome tonight as well… from a friend who’s a girl to her gay friend.”

The conversation was easy from there on out. Normal topics came back into the mix and it was like the first day of school all over again. We clicked once more.

“How did you get into this anyway?” he asked. “I know the middle part, but what made you say, yeah, I could live like a girl for four years, no problem.”

I giggled at his imitation. “It wasn’t like that.”

The waitress brought our pizza at that moment and I slid a slice onto my plate and began cutting it with a fork and knife. I know it’s sacrilege to eat it that way, but girls have to be very careful of their clothes. Splattering pizza sauce on a cheap t-shirt is one thing, on a nice dress, it’s cause for alarm. Those things are expensive and I didn’t have the money to replace it if it was damaged or stained.

“Admittedly, I was a slacker. I had decent grades, but no options for my future. After going through the stacks of scholarship applications I came across the one by the Society. That got set to the side, because I wasn’t a girl. Mom looked it over and got a weird look on her face. Then she started talking to me about it.”

“I can’t imagine that conversation,” Austin said.

I shrugged. “It was surreal, but I was willing to try almost anything and she knew it. That afternoon, I shaved my legs for the first time and Mom brought out all the war paint and an old wig. It wasn’t perfect, but I could see it wouldn’t take much effort to make me look good.”

“You have nice legs.”

“Thank you. It’s the one thing I don’t really have to try masking. They’re all natural. Mom’s genetics coming through more than Dad’s I guess.”

As an afterthought I rubbed them together, quite enjoying the smooth feeling.

“You seem really comfortable,” he said.

“I am.” Taking another slice of pizza, I started cutting it up which Austin worked on his fifth slice. “I would have never thought I would enjoy doing this, but it’s become almost second nature and it’s only taken almost three months of doing it every day.”

“So you like being a girl?”

That question made me think for a moment. “Yeah. Well, there are drawbacks. Maybe if I could just be a regular college girl and not have to worry about the Society then I could relax more. But I like a lot of aspects of it.”

“Like what?”

My face reddened a little at all the revelations. “I like the maintenance aspect. I’ve never paid too much attention to my body, now I do and I want to improve certain things. I like to shave my legs and other areas. They feel really good afterward. I never really realized how much I dislike body hair until I didn’t have any.”

“I like my guys smooth too.”

I blinked at the thought. Even though I knew intellectually that he was gay, I couldn’t picture him with a guy.

“Have you thought about staying this way, even after college?” he asked.

With a shake of my head I said, “No… well, I’ve given it a thought in like a fantasy hypothetical way. I mean what it would be like to actually have real breasts instead of the prosthetics and all, but no, not for real.”

~O~

When he dropped me off early in the evening, I hoped he didn’t expect a goodnight kiss or anything and I wasn’t disappointed. Austin didn’t longingly look at my lips or act weird and nervous. He just pulled up to my apartment and killed the motor.

“So, um, do you still want to do this thing on Friday?” he asked.

“The party? If you want. I had a good time tonight.”

“Me too.”

An uncomfortable silence lasted for about ten seconds. “Everyone there will be couples, except for a few stags. It would mean holding hands and being a little familiar with each other.”

I hadn’t thought about that. “Oh.”

The idea of hold another guy’s hand was odd, but as long as he realized that it wasn’t anything more than that I thought I could get through the night. “I can deal with it. Just no being pushed into a closet for seven minutes in heaven or anything.”

Austin laughed out loud at that. “We’re in college. I think that was junior high stuff.”

I nodded. “Then we should be fine. I can act the part of your girlfriend for the evening.”

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say because his eyebrows rose a little in response. “Good point… here.”

I watched as he undid the clasp of his fraternity pin from his shirt pocket and leaned over to secure it to the fold of my draped collar.

“There, it’s official. You’re my girlfriend.”

Perhaps it was the mood or the act of officially being pinned, but I felt decidedly feminine at that moment. I reached up with my manicured nails and delicate fingers to brush the pin for a moment.

“I’ll take good care it.”

Austin smiled. “I’d appreciate that.”

He drew back to his seat and started the car.

When I got inside, Kelsey was sitting on the couch watching some reality garbage on TV.

“How was your… oh my god, you’re pinned.”

She got to her feet and I watched as she worked her mouth without any sound until it finally kicked in. “Are you really his girlfriend?”

My brows knitted at the question. “I thought this was what all of you wanted. A fake girlfriend so he could hide being gay easier.”

Kelsey covered her mouth and gave a slight giggle. “We wanted you to go on one date with him, Kayla.” After a moment’s pause she delved in with another personal question. “Do you like him?”

“What, of course I like him or I wouldn’t be… that’s not what you meant is it?”

She shook her head with a smile. “Do you like him like him?”

I gave her a tired look to tell her I wasn’t playing her games. “I’m not gay, Kelsey.”

“And you’re not a boy, Kayla. Not at the moment anyway. So, did you get a romantic kiss goodnight?”

I ignored her and went to my room. I was getting sick of my bipolar sister.

~O~

The next morning I chose a smocked cross-front jersey dress in red and some open-toe espadrilles. It was amazing how much I enjoyed not wearing socks during the summer and still look good. And wearing dresses is so much more comfortable than jeans. Even shorts wound up being hot for me as a boy, but dresses are almost like wearing clothes with a built in air conditioner.

Austin’s pin went prominently above my left breast, almost to my shoulder. If I was going to be someone’s fake girlfriend, I was going to milk it for all it was worth. For as long as I had that pin, I was unavailable for flirtation by other guys. Well, from the ones that had morals anyway. Some guys didn’t care if a girl is taken or not.

When I made it to my English Comp I class, Austin was already there and I noticed he spotted his property right away, and I don’t mean me. That brought a smile to his face.

I sat beside him. “Morning, boyfriend.”

That sounded so weird coming from my mouth.

“Morning, girlfriend.”

That was almost as weird, but for the last three or four weeks I had been thinking of myself as a girl, for the most part, so it wasn’t quite as bad. The idea that I voluntarily had a boyfriend was a much bigger issue that needed time to sink in properly.

He leaned over and innocently pecked my cheek. I tried my best not to flinch away and thought I played my part fairly convincingly. That was until he mentioned it.

“We need to get used to it, so we don’t look fake,” he whispered.

I gave him a barely perceptible nod. “I know; it’s cool.”

By lunchtime I was almost comfortable with him holding my hand loosely in his, and that’s the way it went from Wednesday to Friday. Austin added little things here and there in an effort to make me relax. By Friday, I didn’t feel totally gay while he rested his hand on my hip as we talked to some of his friends here and there. I just kept a running mantra in my head.

You’re a girl and Austin is your boyfriend. You like it when he touches you. It makes you feel feminine and appreciated.

Over and over I repeated that whenever we were together, and that was becoming quite a lot of time. It was almost like we were spending every available moment together. Granted, it was only a couple of days and we would be working on school stuff a lot of the time, but still.

By Friday, I was getting nervous. I didn’t like any of the party dresses I had. They were for more formal occasions, so I was in a bind until Kelsey decided she’d heard enough of my whining.

“Here,” she held out a black dress. “You’re driving me nuts.”

I looked at the dress with envy. “It won’t fit. You’re a size smaller than I am.”

“It’s too big on me and it’s mostly spandex. It’ll fit. Now go get dressed, and wear the stilettos with that. I’ll be in to help you with your makeup later.”

I almost squealed, but held myself back enough to wait until I was in my room. The top portion and the arms were black lace and everything else was spandex, so it fit perfectly. I went through my routine, making sure my skin was smooth and my nails were fresh. Then I spent a lot of time making sure my hair was just right, pulled up and away from my face with little tendrils bordering the sides.

My earrings were properly dangling, heavier than I was used to so they tugged a little more than normal and so on.

By the time Kelsey arrived to help me with my eye shadow, I was getting even more nervous.

“Quit fidgeting,” she said. “You’re acting like he going to take your virginity tonight or something.”

“Kelsey!”

“Remember, you can’t have sex with him, Kayla, as much as you obviously want to.”

“I do not want to have sex with Austin. I just want to have fun.”

She sighed dramatically. “And there goes the studious little sister I had at the beginning of term. She’s turned into a boy hungry strumpet.”

I knew she was teasing me, but at least she wasn’t going through one of her bitchy phases. I was grateful enough for that.

“I’m not boy hungry. Besides, I can’t have sex with him. I’m supposed to wait until after I get married, according to the Society, and that’s never going to happen since I’m not gay.”

Kelsey paused for a moment and then resumed her ministrations. “There’s more than one way to skin a cat, little sister.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I didn’t like the obvious implication of her tone.

“I’ve read over your scholarship contract, back when you first started this thing. It must have been written thirty years ago or something. You can’t have vaginal sex, like that’s all girls in 2011 do for fun. It was very specific.”

I pulled away. “You can stop right there. There will be no type of sex, manual, oral, or otherwise.” It was the otherwise portion that made me wince. “I don’t like guys, okay?”

She mumbled something I didn’t catch and finished work on my eyes while I stewed. All during the process, I couldn’t get the thought out of my head about doing things with Austin, things that were totally against my nature. I seriously needed some brain bleach, pronto.

The boys showed up right on time. Brandon’s eyes nearly popped when he saw me, Austin’s were more subdued, but still impressed.

My boyfriend and I got in the back of Brandon’s car and quietly held hands until we got to the on campus fraternity house. It wasn’t giant or anything. Its purpose was solely for meetings, gatherings, and parties. The only people who got to live there were seniors, according to Austin.

We were greeted at the front and ushered inside to partake of a watered down fruit punch. There wasn’t any alcohol allowed on campus, but that didn’t stop a few people from bringing some and slipping it in their own drinks.

For thirty minutes, I studied the girls who were dancing, how they moved and what they did with their hands. It was soon after that Austin asked me if I wanted to give it a try. I hadn’t planned on being that much of a girl when I started all of this a few month previous, so I was naturally nervous.

Some Ke$ha song was playing, which I liked, so I nodded amidst the loud music. It only took me a few seconds to find some moves I was comfortable with. Austin was a great dancer which in turn made me look better than I was, and we stayed out for another four songs before taking a break.

“You want another drink?”

I nodded and smiled before he disappeared. Then I was kidnapped soon after by a gaggle of sorority girls.

There was a large porch in the back of the house that had been claimed by them apparently.

“How did you do it?” a blonde sporting big hair asked with a little more emphasis than casual conversation required.

“Do what?”

“Hook Austin Hamilton. You do know who he is, right? Half the girls in our sorority have tried and he’s shot every one of them down.”

I paused and looked at some of the faces of the girls that were almost surrounding me. A couple weren’t pleasant, but most of them looked like they just wanted some juicy tidbits to chew on.

I shrugged my shoulders. “We got set up on a semi-blind date and we just hit it off.”

A brunette pointed at my dress, right where the lace and spandex met, right where something of Austin’s sat.

“You’re pinned.”

I brushed it for reassurance and smiled. “Yeah, Austin’s sweet.”

Was I overdoing it? I didn’t know.

I heard one of the girls growl. “Was it sex? Is that what he wanted? Something kinky?”

I blinked and almost laughed if I didn’t realize at that second she was a hundred percent serious. “No. I’m a SPFV girl. No sex for me until I’m married.”

“What?” That was said by more than a few of them.

I looked back at the door for a timely rescue, but I spotted my absent boyfriend was talking to some guy in an overly familiar way on the other side of the house. His hand was resting on the other guy’s shoulder. A sudden spike of jealously shot through me and I nearly yakked at the thought, so I tried to distract myself.

Waving the girls over to a quieter portion of the porch, I gave them the Society spiel. It had to be good for at least a few weeks of suggesting something feminine for other girls every day.

“We talked about it on our first date. You have to be straight up with boys about what to expect, right?”

A couple of them nodded while others looked at me curiously.

“I belong to a group called the Society for the Promotion of Feminine Values. Basically it’s a good girl’s club. We make it a point to separate boys and girls. You know how it’s hard to tell who’s who sometimes? Girls wearing boys clothes, boys wearing androgynous clothes… well the Society promotes girls actually being girls.”

The blonde shot back, “You mean wearing dresses all the time and high heels?”

I shook my head. “No, while its encouraged, you can wear what you want as long as it isn’t masculine. No ratty jeans, tank tops, work boots. Me, I just like to wear dresses. It’s a lot cooler during the summer, but in the winter I’ll probably switch to cords or wear a lot of thick tights. I love looking like a girl and Austin really likes it. Maybe that’s why he picked me.”

Half of them started separating, obviously finding me a can short of a six-pack, but there were a few girls that stayed around.

I totally lost track of time making new friends, girls pretty enough that I would have never talked to them as Kevin for fear I’d be laughed at, but as Kayla I was an equal.

At the end, I’d exchanged numbers with five of them and had invitation to rush two sororities as well.

Me in a sorority; can you imagine?

“Hey pretty girl, where ya been?”

I turned around and Austin was standing there smiling at me. He took my hand and slipped his other on my hip leaning in to peck me on the mouth. I nearly jumped back, but remembered the girls at the last second. Austin and I were supposed to be dating and people that date kiss a lot.

After the closed lipped peck — I need for you to know that it was closed lipped just in case you missed that — I turned back around and Austin slipped his hands on my hips and encircled me.

“Girls, this is Austin, my boyfriend, Austin, the girls: Emma, Samantha, Grace, Hannah, and Avery. I’ve been telling them about the Society.”

“Good evening, ladies. Mind if I steal, Kayla from you. I have a serious need to dance.”

“Bye Kayla,” they sang back as I waved.

“Been making new friends I see,” Austin said as we walked back inside to the end of a moderately fast song.

“Yeah, they’re great. I’m glad I came tonight.”

Right as we hit the dance floor a slow song started and I nearly groaned. Dancing with a guy was fine for a fast song, but a slow one meant touching and being intimate.

“Sorry, I didn’t know they were going to do that,” he said.

Biting the bullet, I interlocked my hands behind his neck and pulled our bodies closer together.

“I’ll live.”

Both of his hands found my lower back and we started swaying a little, in place. Austin was looking rather deep into my eyes and I wanted to avoid him having any of those weird feelings so I broke the connection and lay my head on his shoulder like a few other girls were doing with their partners. This in turn pressed our bodies even closer together.

Before I started this little feminine adventure I hadn’t dated anyone for six months and hadn’t had sex in almost as long. So you’ll have to understand that it had been almost nine months with nobody else but my hand and even that was starting to become fewer and fewer times. Maybe it was because I kept the boys squished for the majority of the day, but I tended to react strongly only when they’re free. That meant bath time when I had the extra time. What I’m getting at is dancing intimately like that provoked a reaction that I wasn’t used to, especially when Austin was having the same type as me and I could feel it.

“Kayla,” he spoke in a low tone. I pulled back and looked at him. “Would you mind… that is…”

Before I knew it, I felt a hand at my neck and it was tugging me gently closer.

“Austin,” I hissed.

Looking around quickly I saw almost all the couples were kissing.

He was so going to pay for putting me in that position. I closed my eyes and tried my best to imagine one of the girls I met tonight, Hannah, was in his place when our lips met. Instead, that stupid mantra I was thinking for the last two days popped in there to say hello.

You’re a girl and Austin is your boyfriend. You like it when he touches you. It makes you feel feminine and appreciated. You’re a girl and Austin is your boyfriend. You like it when he touches you. It makes you feel feminine and appreciated.

The kiss deepened and his tongue came out to play. One of his hands wandered and found its way to my butt, tugging me in further. If we wound up any closer he’d be inside me and that was never going to happen. I broke the kiss and grabbed his hand.

“Not in public, dear,” I hissed again.

“Sorry.”

Laying my head on his shoulder again saw I was pretty close to his ear. “I saw you flirting with that guy earlier. Did anything happen that I need to be aware of?”

His body stiffened. “Um…”

“If you’re going to cheat on me, Austin, I’m ending this now. I have standards I have to maintain. You know that.”

“We didn’t do anything.”

I wasn’t so sure. “Then why are you so horny right now? I know I didn’t make you that way.”

“Can we not talk about this in the middle of the dance floor?”

I sighed and took his hand as I backed away. “Take me home, Austin.”

There was a pout on his face and I had to return it with a mild glare. He complied and went to find Brandon so he could borrow his car. Ten minutes later, after I said bye to the girls we were barreling toward the apartment.

“So…” I said trying in vain to finish the conversation. “Would you have even told me or would I have heard about it via the grapevine?”

“I didn’t do anything Kayla. I flirted a little. He flirted back. That was it.”

I crossed my arms and couldn’t believe I was feeling jealous. I was seriously confused.

“You’re a little too feminine for my tastes, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not gay, Austin.”

“Could have fooled me. I wasn’t back there kissing myself on the dance floor.”

“You kissed me, hello! What was I supposed to do, slap you? I thought nobody was supposed to know about you?”

“Very few people do.”

We drove on for a couple more minutes and he threw a proposition at me. “Look, why don’t we not call it a night.”

I just looked over at him.

“Your sister is going to be spending the night at my apartment with Brandon. Why don’t I come in and you can take off all that stuff… we could get to know one another a little better.”

If I was truthful too myself, I’d admit there was a part of me that wanted to be treated just like a girl, but what he was asking for made me bury that away even deeper than it was before. He wanted me to be a guy and I couldn’t do that. Not because of the Society, although that played a major role in my decision, but because I liked being a girl more than I realized.

“I’m a girl, Austin. I may not know exactly where my head’s at concerning sex at the moment, but I know for the next four years at least, I’m a girl.”

As he pulled up to my apartment, I reached up and took off his pin to set on the console between the seats.

“Kayla…”

“Thanks for this week,” I said with touch of finality. “It’s been educational and fun. And good luck finding a guy that I’m sure you’ll like better than a really confused… me.”

With that, I leaned over and kissed him of my own volition. It wasn’t anything deep or soul searching. It was just something spur of the moment, something that a girl might do on a whim. The action felt right and that’s all that mattered at the moment.

TBC...

Author's Note: Here's something that I've been working on for the last few months, on and off. I've got a few chapters finished, but it's more of a serial than a story that will take a while to complete. Photo Credit: Amye E.

Episode Two

Winter came early along with all the colorful cute seasonal clothes. At lunch that day with Emma, Grace, and Hannah I was wearing a red and green sweater dress with thick black patterned tights and pointy-toe knee boots. I was pleasantly cozy warm while Grace was filling us in on her latest acquisition.

“… and his hair is so thick and soft. I love cuddling with him.”

Over the last few months I learned to appreciate the subtly of girl talk. It wasn’t all cute boys and who got the info on the latest fashion, mindless banter. There was a purpose and deeper meanings behind what I thought were groups of airheads giggling and gossiping. It was the spirit of sisterhood.

I never understood the concept of a sorority. As a guy I always thought it was a bunch of stuck up girls taking up worthless causes as an excuse to say they belonged to an exclusive group. Emma and Hannah were constantly trying to talk me into joining theirs, Zeta Beta somethingorother, while Samantha, Grace, and Avery wanted me in Phi Kappa whatchamacallit. I looked into both of them, what they did, and what their requirements for membership are. Let’s just say the main reason I didn’t join was because it was very expensive.

I couldn’t afford the monthly dues, the application fee, the initiation fee, the rush fee, the pin fee, the Pan-Hellenic council fee, the Greek life fee… it was ridiculous. Then there was all the extra time I’d have to take away from my studies in order to participate in meetings, volunteer projects, ad nauseum.

So instead of doing something so formal, I offered to become part of a little club we’d formed, aptly nicknamed, The Society. When they approached me about it, the first thing that popped into my mind was the Skull and Bones Society, one of those ultra-exclusive clubs that future presidents and leaders of industry join where they make fun of poor people and develop plots to take over the world.

Our mission was simply to feminize the world, not rule it.

The Society for the Promotion of Feminine Values crones loved the idea and was especially proud of my recruiting efforts for a new generation of girly girls. They were so impressed that they wanted to fund it in a more official capacity. Apparently a lot of them were getting on in years and dying off at a quicker rate so they wanted to leave a legacy of their own.

One of the off campus Greek houses, Alpha Beta Testosterone or something, had been shut down by the university and the Pan-Hellenic council for breaking several Greek rules and not showing any effort to reform. The SPFV bought the place and gave it to us to renovate and base our operations at. That was in October, so it was still being cleaned out and fixed up. It would officially reopen by the new semester and since it was off campus we could do what we wanted to do without having to follow the stupid Greek rules.

In the meantime, we’d gotten together to develop our own version of a sisterhood. But first we needed to recruit.

I don’t know how it happened, but I wound up being voted First Lady. Yes, you heard that right. The title of President was too masculine sounding and was immediately voted out. The irony of the whole situation wasn’t lost on me.

We didn’t have an official secretary so I took notes during our meeting about any ideas we had for spreading our influence.

“How about buttons?” Grace suggested.

Hannah shook her head. “Colors would clash and I hate the damage pins do to my blouses. Maybe bumper stickers?”

I shook my head at that one. “Too eighties, plus how often do you ride in a car at campus? We need to be more visible in a way that encourages answers to any questions someone might have.”

And this is how our meetings go. They’re not even really meetings. We just use lunch or dinner to go over certain ideas. It’s a lot more spur of the moment and gives us time to think about things or bring in outside ideas while doing something that we’d be occupied with anyway. This way we’re not interfering with our already overloaded schedules.

When I got back to the apartment, Kelsey was there sulking with a half empty pint of Ben & Jerry’s while she watched TV. Her attitude had dramatically worsened since the middle of October when she broke up with Brandon. Since it was her idea to end their relationship, I didn’t get why she was so down in the dumps and taking it out on me. Perhaps it had something to do with him calling out my name once when they were having sex.

That does tend to kill the mood.

She blamed me for it, of course. Even though I never flirted with him at all, I was blamed because he wanted her to ease up on the tomboyish look she sported all the time. Some of the guys in his fraternity were dating the girls from the Society and liked having pretty girls on their arms.

Frankly I think it was because of the lack of vaginal sex they were getting. As I’ve mentioned before, straight sex is a nono, because good girls wait until they’re married for that kind of thing. Being a part of the Society meant an increase in other types of activities to make up for it. Apparently I was the only virgin in that particular aspect. I’d had sex before, just not with a guy, so I wouldn’t know the first thing about oral or the other kind. Samantha seemed to like it better and it didn’t interfere with her monthly cycle, so she was all for alternative forms of sex. So were the guys.

Once Brandon had caught wind of what his frat brothers were doing, he wanted in on the action, but Kelsey wouldn’t budge. He eventually turned to fantasy and for some reason I was the star of his head-sex show that one evening.

How on earth do I get drawn in on these things?

“Hi,” I said as I closed the door.

She frowned at me and stabbed her ice cream with the spoon.

“Back from your group brainwashing session? Figure out how to set women’s liberation back another decade?”

I ignored her and went to my room to start on my homework. The flasher thingy on my answering machine was flashing, so I hit it before emptying my pack.

“Beep! Hi, Kayla, it’s Jenna from Beta Sigma (whatchamacallit). I’ve got five girls that are interested in hearing more about the Society. If you want to give me a call back, we’ll set something up for you to answer any questions they might have.”

Click-wirrr.

“Beep! Kayla, it’s Austin. Did you get the revised project notes from Harris’ class? I spilled coke all over mine and they’re trashed. Call me.”

Click-wirrr.

“Hi Kayla, it’s Brandon… um…”

In three seconds flat, Kelsey was at my door, looking at my machine like it was spawning a demon from Hell.

“Look, um…” he said. “I’ve been thinking. I’ve got tickets to see Ke$ha down in the city for this weekend. I know how much you like her music and wanted to know if you want to make a date of it with me. If you could call me tonight… my number is…”

I didn’t hear any more because Kelsey was screaming too loud.

“I knew it! How long have you two been sneaking around my back! Did you even wait until we were broken up before boning him?”

Looking at her like she was crazy I said. “I’m not gay and I haven’t even spoken to Brandon since you broke up with him.”

“Then how did he get your number? Huh?!”

“Kelsey, he lives with Austin. How do you think he got my number? Can you please go have your mental breakdown somewhere else? I have studying to do.”

I kind of fibbed a little when I told her I wasn’t gay. The truth was, the longer I played at being a girl the more I acted like boys were cute when I got together with the other girls. Seeing their perspective on things I integrated it into my new persona and eventually I started seeing what the girls were seeing. In due course, I made up my ideal man from bits and pieces of guys I’d play at liking. It was all detailed and dramatic which in turn made me start noticing guys more often, searching for the person I had in my head.

In other words, I was boy hunting and didn’t realize it until Avery pointed it out to me one day. She told me I needed to quit being so picky and get laid in one way or another.

What I’m getting at is while I may not be gay, I wasn’t totally heterosexual anymore. Maybe bi-curious might be a better description.

I still remember kissing Austin on the dance floor of his frat house. I’d had enough nightmares about it for two weeks after we broke up. It’s just that somewhere along the line of the last couple of months, I didn’t see boys as something to be nauseous over anymore. In fact, I missed having my hand held and the presence of Austin’s arm around me.

Not that I’m pining away over him or anything. He was a player, maybe not as bad as some guys out there, but he used me as cover so he could have sex with other guys without any undue attention. I just hoped he was being truthful when he said he hadn’t done anything on that particular night. Being cheated on was bad enough as a guy, being a girl seemed to increase the deception and betrayal that much more.

When I looked up from my books, Kelsey was still standing there at the doorway with that look on her face. The look that said I know you’re a liar. Then I thought of a way to kill two birds with one phone call.

“How about if I call him now and refuse. Will that prove to you that we haven’t done anything?”

She seemed to consider that for a moment. “Put it on speaker. This could be totally planned.”

I sighed. “Alright, but you can’t say anything while I’m on the phone with him.”

Kelsey pursed her lips, but grudgingly nodded.

After hitting the speaker button, I dialed Austin’s number.

“Kayla, hey,” Austin said as he answered the phone. “Did you get my message?”

“Yeah, I’ve got the notes. I’ll email them to you in a minute.”

“Cool, thanks.”

“No problem. Is Brandon around?”

There was a pause. “Uh, yeah… hold on.”

The sound of a door opening and footsteps sounded before I heard a muffled voice. It was like Austin had his hand over the phone so I couldn’t hear.

“Hello?” Another sound of a door closing let me know we’d gone private. I looked over at Kelsey and I saw she was already tearing up.

“Hey, Brandon, I got your message. I won’t be able to go with you to the Ke$ha concert. I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

“What?” He sounded genuinely confused. “May I ask why?”

I shook my head at his denseness. “Um, maybe because you dated my sister and us going out would be totally weird after I know what the two of you sound like in bed all the time?”

He half chuckled and half sighed. “Kelsey broke up with me, Kayla. I made a stupid mistake and I paid for it.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “That stupid mistake involved me in a way. So us going out would be an extraordinarily bad idea. Kelsey was seriously upset after that and I’d rather not wake up one morning and find an icepick in my head.”

Silence settled on the phone for a few moments then he came back.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with your situation, does it?”

“No, I appreciate how you’ve acted regarding me and my situation. I just couldn’t hurt Kelsey like that. Seeing the two of us together would just hurt her even more.”

He hmm’d. “I understand. Just pretend that I didn’t ask you then, okay?”

“No problem, Brandon. Thanks for your candor.”

“Bye, Kayla.”

“Bye.”

When I punched the speaker button to cut the call off, Kelsey looked crestfallen, but apologetic at the same time.

“I’m sorry I blamed you,” she said, and with that done she turned and went to her room.

How many times did I say at the beginning of this tale that I’d come to school for a specific purpose, to study. It was only December; what was my life going to be like in another year. I’d probably be pregnant, with Hannah’s child via some new surgical procedure only performed by Buddhist monks on the blue moon in Australia.

What I didn’t get, right away, was that not only did Brandon yell out my name during some freaked out fantasy in his head, he just asked me out on a date. It was all so very matter of fact that I didn’t consider the broader ramifications of the act.

At first I thought maybe he was just thinking about me as a girl and tried to integrate that into his fantasy of Kelsey being more girlish, but that wasn’t it at all. He was attracted to me, knowing exactly who and what I was.

Then a thought came into my head that was much much worse. That ideal guy I’d formulated for my feminine persona? I popped Brandon’s head on the body and it was a seamless fit.

“Oh God…”

Had I subconsciously pulled his body, which I had seen in various types of undress over the first couple of months, into my vision of a really cute guy? That would just make my life perfect. Note the sarcasm.

“School work; I must do my school work and concentrate on nothing else.”

When I finished my Western Literature reading I had to find something else to keep my mind off of thinking about tall, dark, and well fit ex-boyfriends of my sister. Luckily, there were five girls that wanted to know more about the Society. I gave Jenna a call back. She was a friend of Avery’s so I trusted her judgment. The girls were back from class and were available so I grabbed my purse and my heavy coat just in case I was still out at dark.

About five minutes into my walk, I toyed with the idea of stopping by the convenience store and purchasing a few men’s magazines, not the pervy kind, stuff like Maxim, Road & Track and the like. Magazines with pretty women in them might reverse whatever damage I’d done with all my stupid self-conditioning.

When I entered the store I made my way to the proper aisle and starting perusing the titles. It being a store very close to the college, of course they’d be out of anything halfway interesting, though they did have the latest issue of Cosmo. My hand hovered over it for a few moments like I was a crack addict trying to quit.

The cashier was eyeing me suspiciously. It was my fault. I probably looked like I was going to shoplift something.

“Screw it, I’ll quit tomorrow.”

Grabbing the magazine, I headed to check out. That’s when Brandon came into the store. I jolted to a stop and watched him as he scanned the aisles and then smiled when his eyes stopped on me. Taking a quick breath to steel my nerves, I nodded a greeting at him and then promptly tried to forget he existed. That didn’t work for long. When I reached for my purse, he produced a five and set it on the counter.

The cashier gave me a quick glance and took the money while I glanced disapprovingly at Brandon.

“I have the money,” I said.

He ignored my protest. “Where are you headed?”

“Uh… Beta Sigma somthingorother. There’s some girls interested in the Society.”

He seemed mildly interested. “Oh, that’s a long walk in those heels. I’ll drive you.”

It wasn’t a suggestion or even an offer, it was just a fact, or at least that’s what it sounded like anyway. The heels on my boots were chunky and about two inches. They weren’t uncomfortable in the least, but I’d definitely look fresher if I didn’t have to trek halfway across campus. That’s the only reason I didn’t argue.

“Okay, thanks.”

When we got out to his truck — he sold the SUV and bought new truck, even though the SUV still had new car smell. Apparently he was well off. — he was at the passenger side door, opening it for me.

I gave the gesture a cautious look, but accepted that he was simply being a gentleman. That was odd in itself, because I knew how he really acted around Kelsey. It wasn’t that he was rude or anything, but he wasn’t overly respectful around her either.

When he hopped in the driver’s side I was given a charming smile and we left the parking lot.

“Sorry about the… sister thing earlier,” he said.

“Kelsey heard the message. She about blew through the roof.”

I watched as he winced. “Yeah. I didn’t think. I’ll call your cell next time.”

“What?” There was going to be a next time?

“I knew I was on speaker, Kayla. It makes a distinctive sound. Did Kelsey buy it?”

I opened my mouth and just made inarticulate sounds.

“I was truthful when I said I’d made a mistake,” he said. “I shouldn’t have been thinking about you while Kelsey and I were having sex.”

My face heated up and I wanted desperately to escape, but jumping from a vehicle, in those boots, at thirty miles an hour, would probably hurt.

“The thing is, I’ve done some soul searching since I met you and realized that I needed to grow up and look toward the future.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said.

It looked like he was trying to find the right words, but not succeeding. “This is going to sound bad, but I can’t think of the right way to skirt the issue. There are different types of girls…”

One of my eyebrows started lifting as I waited for this obviously scientifically proven fact to emerge.

“Girls you have fun with and girls you’re serious about. There’s a lot of overlap involved… I mean you can have fun with the serious girls and be somewhat serious with the fun girls…”

I couldn’t take it anymore. “Brandon, I know what you mean, move on.”

“Right. Anyway, Kelsey is fun, but I’m glad she broke up with me, because there’s this serious girl I’ve wanted to date for the last three months.”

It was easy to read the way this conversation was headed. That’s what allowed me to process the thought with any form of coherency.

“You do realize that Kelsey would kill me in my sleep and then hunt you down and kill you as well, right?”

“I’ll talk to her.”

After scoffing… loudly. “You know my situation, Brandon. I’m not exactly…”

“I know. Does that mean we can’t date?”

Turning to stare out the front windshield, I’d already made my decision. “My life is already complicated enough. Adding sexual confusion to the mix will only make it worse.”

His face lit up. “So you’re already thinking about me in that way?”

Me and my big mouth. “I didn’t say that.”

“You said you were sexually confused. That means you’ve considered the idea and weren’t turned off at the thought.”

By that time I was getting frustrated. “You’re twisting my words. Besides, dating me pretty much means the end of your midafternoon sexual romps. I have to stay a virgin until I’m married, or until I graduate.”

That made his face pink up a little, which I was happy for. Hopefully, word hadn’t gotten around to him about what the other girls were doing to make up for the lack of straight sex with their boyfriends. I was doubtful I’d be spared, but still hopeful.

“I thought you weren’t gay anyway,” I said to reinforce my thought.

I received a quick glance for that. “My brother is gay and my best friend is gay. The girl I want to be with is genetically a guy. My views have… altered.”

He was bi-curious, just as I was.

Sitting there contemplating that revelation, I didn’t notice when we pulled into the Beta Sigma whatitsthing parking lot.

“How long are you going to be? I can come back for you.”

“Brandon…”

“Cold front is supposed to be here sometime within the next hour. They’re talking snow on the radio.”

My eyes ticked to the dash for a second before I sighed. “I’ll call you. It shouldn’t be more than that.”

“Excellent. I’m going over to the student union so I’ll be close.”

Giving him a reluctant smile, I got out of the truck and entered the house before he drove off.

“Brandon Myers,” a voice said from behind me as I looked out the side window. “Moving up in the world I see.”

It was Jenny. I spun around. “He was just giving me a ride. There’s no moving up anywhere.”

She smiled knowingly. “No problem, honey. I won’t tell Kelsey.”

I went immediately on the defensive. “Seriously, nothing’s going on. You can tell her if you want.” Though I desperately hoped that she wouldn’t.

~O~

By the time I was finished, the Society had four more recruits and one that would think about it, but I wasn’t putting any bets on her acceptance. It was really amazing how may girls missed or never experienced being girly when they were growing up. Most of the caution seemed to surround grooming and makeup. They were afraid of looking like a preteen and it was much easier to slap on some lipstick and eye liner than it was to use all the rest.

Maybe it would just be a quick phase in their life, an experiment to try. I’d also be willing to bet more than a few would like the way they looked and the way they’re treated enough to go through a few extra minutes in the morning to do it right.

It was the same with me. For the first month of being a girl full time, I dreaded getting up an hour early just to make sure I looked perfect, but after a while, it became part of my routine.

Brandon picked me up, to the delight of Jenny. There was only so much denial I could show before it seemed desperate and fake, so I just rolled my eyes at her playfully as I said goodbye.

It was nice and quiet for about half the ride to the apartment then Brandon dropped the bomb.

“We’ll have to leave no later than three to make the concert on Friday.”

I felt like texting WTF to myself. “Uh…”

“Is there anything you need to do in the city, maybe visit that Society organization for a meeting with the higher-ups or something? Then maybe you can conveniently…”

“Brandon, I don’t like lying to my sister. If you want to ask me out then it needs to be with her blessing.”

I figured this way I could sound like I was laying it all on her shoulders. There was no way she’d agree, so I’d be off the hook and I’d stay the good guy… uh, girl. It was a brilliant plan, wasn’t it? There was no way he would have the nerve to approach her so soon after their breakup to ask such a question and have the reaction be positive. I won, for once!

A glance out of the corner of my eye doubly convinced me, because he looked pensive.

“You’re right. We shouldn’t have to hide this and I should have known that you’d be of higher moral character.”

“W-what?”

“I’ll talk to her tomorrow morning. We usually see each other in front of the psychology building. I’ll approach her then. That way it won’t look like you’re part of the decision making. She’ll be in public and less likely to make a scene, and…”

“And what?”

He just smiled knowingly, which was a facial gesture I was really beginning to hate.

“Oh, nothing. I’ll let you out here,” he said as we neared the building. “No need in setting her off and seeing us together even though it’s a purely innocent ride home to avoid bad weather.”

I narrowed my eyes at him because he was a little plotter, plotting things in a plotty way.

He was right though. The wind was already biting and frost was in the air. I hurried to the front door and opened it to the musky smell of sex in the air. I could swear my sister was totally incapable of closing a door. I hung my jacket up in the closet and went to my room amidst the cadence of, “Unh, unh, unh, unh, oh God!”

With my door closed, I set my head against it. “Please don’t let this be a set up.”

Much later, probably three hours, the sounds finally stopped and eventually I heard the front door close. I grabbed a bottle of Febreze and exited my room to saturate the apartment. There’s nothing worse than waking up the next morning and walking out into that stale smell.

Kelsey was standing there, in her robe, bent over, in front of the refrigerator, scooping out makings for a large sandwich. She probably had low blood sugar from the massive workout. However the good thing was she was all smiles.

“Hi, Kayla! Did you know it was snowing?”

I just raised an eyebrow at her. “New boyfriend?”

“Mmmm,” she almost crooned. “Brad Stemson: six-five, blond hair, wide receiver, stamina-of-a-god.”

I would have snorted, but propriety held me back. Just a few hours earlier she was pining away for her old boyfriend and… mother-fudger. He set it up! He knew I was out of the apartment and he called some guy to come over and light her fire just to take her mind off of him.

“So, I’m guessing Brandon’s totally out of the picture now?” I said with a touch of nervousness.

Kelsey flipped her hand at me with a throwaway gesture. “Brandon shmandon. You can have him if you want. I’ll call him…”

“No!”

She twitched. “I thought you and him…?”

“No. We really haven’t been going around behind your back, Kelsey. I have no interest in him whatsoever.”

Liar!

“Aww, you’re so sweet. You really were telling me the truth.”

Oh brother.

“Seriously, sis, go out with him. He’d be good for you. God knows you need to get laid.”

“No.” I couldn’t take anymore. “I’m going to bed.”

“Sweet dreams!” she yelled after me.

I really do think she’s bipolar.

Just to help me sleep better, I called his apartment and Austin answered the phone.

“Kayla, hey, thanks for the email, I got it.”

“No problem, Austin. Can I talk to Brandon?”

There was a slight pause. “Are you and he dating?”

“No!” Perhaps I said that a tad too defensively.

“Oookay. Just a sec.”

When I heard the other line pick up and Austin’s line close, Brandon came on. “Couldn’t wait to talk to me could you.”

“I hate you.”

He snorted. “I take it Brad just left?”

“You set this whole thing up.”

“Of course I did. I knew Kelsey hangs on and on unless she gets distracted by something new. I was just helping fate along. He really does like her so I didn’t see this as a bad thing.”

I was so frustrated I couldn’t think of anything to say.

“So, we’re on for Friday, three-o’clock?”

“Oh no, I’m not making this easy for you. You still have to get through my sister and then you have to ask me, and I’ll still turn you down. Ha!”

I could almost see the smile he had on his face through the phone. Thank god I wasn’t on Skype. “Mmm, I do like a challenge, Kayla.”

After mumbling something unintelligible I hung up the phone.

~O~

All day Wednesday, I was a nervous wreck and somewhat snippy. Avery called me out on it at lunch, in front of everyone.

“Sweetie, is it your time of the month?”

“Huh?”

Samantha leaned in. “Aunt Flo, is she visiting?”

“Oh…” Think fast. “Yeah. Bad cramps.”

Now I had to keep up with my non-existent menstrual flow. I couldn’t use the same excuse two or three times in the same month; that would look odd.

Hannah popped out a bottle of Midol, but I waved it off. “I took some before lunch, thanks.”

“You poor thing,” said Avery. “I know you’re not having sex, honey, but you should really think about the Pill anyway. They make it where your periods aren’t as bad.”

That would be brilliant. I could just picture that scene with some faceless gynecologist. “Excuse me doctor, I’d like to get put on the Pill for my fake cramps please.”

“I’ll think about it. Thanks for understanding.”

She gave me a caring hand squeeze and I felt guilty for lying about my lack of a period.

“So I hear you’re going to the Ke$ha concert with Brandon Myers,” she said.

I nearly choked on my Diet Coke. “What? No! Who told you that?”

The other girls gaped, openmouthed. It was Samantha who took the lead. “Hold it. Are we talking about the same Brandon Myers who was dating your sister?”

“He asked me. I said no.” You’d think that would be the end of the subject.

“Are you nuts?” Hannah nearly came unglued. “He’s sooooo cute.”

Emma leaned in. “Aaaannd his dad owns like a hundred Burger King franchises.”

“I think it’s more like ten,” countered Hannah.

“Whatever,” said Emma. Instead of arguing the point she raised up her hand ticking fingers off. “Rich, upperclassman, utterly yummy, and he’s a Phi Kap, which means he’s smart.”

Samantha took over. “So, what we’re saying is… Kayla, are you a closet lesbian?”

I facepalmed. “He just got through dating my sister. I’ve heard them have sex for hours on end… daily.”

“Hours?” Avery acquired a naughty look on her face.

“Down girl,” Emma said as she tossed a fry at her. “That’s Kayla’s guy.”

“He’s not my guy. You’re welcome to him, Avery.”

She smiled very brightly. “Good, ‘cause he’s here.”

This time I did choke and nearly spilled my soda before recovering and spinning around to see Brandon approaching with a confidant smile on his face.

Darn it, Kelsey! Freakity freak freak… poop!

“Ladies,” he said. “How are you all doing this fine blustery morning?”

“It’s twelve-thirty,” I muttered.

He looked at his watch. “Ah, so it is. Kayla, may I speak to you in private?”

I cleared my throat and looked to my friends for support. “Um, no. Anything you can say to me, you can say in front of them.”

His smile twisted somewhat evilly. I may have just made a tactical dating-avoidance error.

“Okay, I spoke with Kelsey and funny enough she told me that she gave her blessing to you last night for us to date. So everything is all smoothed over. Would you like to accompany me to the concert on Friday? I was thinking we could have dinner at Pico’s and I could take you to the waterfall at Kensington Place afterward.”

One of my former best friends sweetly aww’ed behind me.

“What do you say?” he said.

Avery slammed the toe of her boot onto my shin.

I ground my lips together before answering. “Fine.”

“Excellent. I’ll pick you up at your place at three. See you then.”

With that he leaned down and gave me a very brief kiss, which I only half returned, seeing as we were being watched by half the cafeteria.

Turning on a slow boil I spun back around after he left and glared at Avery. “If I have a bruise…”

She waved me away. “Shush, ya big baby. Just make sure to make me the maid of honor at your wedding.”

I shuddered at the thought. Guh!

~O~

It took me all of my free time and the assistance of Hannah and Avery to find a decent outfit that I wouldn’t freeze to death in, was nice enough for a semi-upscale restaurant, and slutty enough for a Ke$ha concert. Try figuring that one out in only one day. Obviously, I couldn’t be too slutty, so I settled for sexy.

A relaxed knit top with a scoop neck, with three-quarter dolman sleeves, a black suede skirt that almost made it to mid-thigh and sat high enough on my waist that I had to wear a cincher to make it look right, a pair of black over the knee socks with silver pinstripes, and a set of super cute ankle boots made up my outfit. Once I had an excess of dangly necklaces and bangles I’d be set.

Over it all I’d have a long thick wool coat that should keep me warm enough.

This is what I would have worn to a concert of this type anyway, so don’t think that I was getting all sexed up for Brandon. While there might be a minor — I’m talking miniscule here — attraction, I just couldn’t deal with anymore drama in my life. I knew exactly what kind of girl he likes and this girl does not put out… at all. I am not my sister.

Friday classes were cancelled for finals the following week. Normally, I’d lock my bedroom door and have my nose in a textbook, but my finals weren’t until Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. I had plenty of time once I got back. Plus, I already knew the material backward and forward.

So I got to sulk all day, that and take a really long time getting ready for my date.

“Kayla,” said my sister as I was just getting back from the salon where I got the whole body works which pretty much meant I was broke for the remainder of the semester. “Brandon doesn’t care about all that froufrou girly stuff. Just give him some special attention and he’s good.”

A chill ran down my spine at the visual Kelsey gave me.

“I’m doing this for myself, not him.” I really didn’t want to tell her that was one of the reasons he wasn’t heartbroken over their breakup. That would be too cold.

“Uh-huh. You know, you can just admit that you like guys. It would explain why you started this girly thing and make this whole semester make a lot more sense.”

I stopped at my door and looked at the time. I had just under two hours. It was just enough time to get ready.

“I’ll admit I don’t dislike guys, does that make you feel better?”

She smirked and bounced once. “Do you know how to give a good blow job? Because that’s his favorite.”

“Kelsey!”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. There will be no sex tonight, of any kind.”

She sighed, clearly disappointed on not getting any dirt. “Well, if you need any help…”

Right, like I’d ask my sister to teach me how to orally satisfy a guy. Whatever! On second thought, I realized she was probably experienced enough to give a porn star pointers. I’d still never go to her for something like that, not that I’d need to know or anything. Anyway, isn’t that what the internet is for? I was sure Wikipedia had to have a page on it.

I took a quick shower to make sure any wax remnants made their way down the drain and then began my routine. Over the last couple of months I’ve learned to do my evening makeup quite well and when I was finished I dressed.

The cincher was tight and tough to get just right where it hugging firmly instead of folding skin. My diet had slimmed me down fairly well, but I still didn’t have much of a waist in comparison to my artificially padded hips. With the cincher on, I thought it gave me fairly nice curves, even making my bust seem a little larger than normal.

Once my outer garments were on I sat down to slip on my OTK socks which felt so incredibly warm I almost purred. I definitely knew what to ask for in my Christmas stocking this year.

Kelsey came in when I slipped my second boot on. Her eyes sparkled with mirth.

“If you’re not trying to get him in the sack then you’re doing a very bad job of it.” She walked over and handed me the earrings I’d asked to borrow. “Brandon’s going to have a very hard night in more ways than one.”

I shot her a look, but didn’t say anything. Instead, I stood and twirled. “Do I look okay?”

Her head tilted. “When did you get a waist?”

I grinned. “Cincher. Like?”

She rolled her eyes. “You and all your old lady lingerie; I’m telling you that you don’t need all that and it just takes more time peeling it away to get to the main event.”

“Well since that’s not happening I could wear all the undergarments I want, right?”

Kelsey shook her head in confusion. “I don’t get it. I don’t think I ever will. All of this will come to a halt when you get married, so why put on airs? When a guy looks at me what he sees is what he gets.”

I shrugged. “If I were to stay a girl, and get married, hypothetically, I don’t think I’d change. I’d still dress like this for myself and my spouse. I like doing it, Kelsey. It makes me happy and proud of how I look. What I don’t get is how you can’t want to look your best all the time?”

“It’s too much trouble. I’d rather sleep.”

“Well, I promised not to pester you about being more feminine, but if you change your mind I’d love to show you exactly how beautiful you can be with just a little effort.”

She frowned. “Maybe during break, sis.”

I had an idea. “How about Christmas morning? We could get matching dresses with all the trimmings and surprise Mom and Dad.”

Kelsey looked at me warily. “Maybe. No promises.”

“Fair enough.”

A knock at the door interrupted our bonding moment and Kelsey’s eyes lit up. “Finish up and I’ll keep him waiting. By the way, the trick to deep throating is to make sure you get him nice and wet first.”

I picked up a pillow and threw it at her, but she’d already dodged out of the way with a teasing laugh.

My stomach started knotting up once I wasn’t distracted anymore. Sliding the earrings in, I slipped on my bangles and necklace then triple-checked everything. Tucking my necessities into the smallest purse I owned, I zipped it up and took a deep breath.

“It’s just a date with a guy. You’ve been on a couple of those now and there’s nothing to it. You’re not having sex tonight so you don’t have to worry about that. Though maybe a good night kiss wouldn’t be out of place… for the tickets and all. I mean he’d deserve at least that. So just put that in your head and draw the line there. One kiss, that’s all.”

Once I’d given myself a pep talk, I opened the door and exited the safety of my bedroom. Brandon turned away from Kelsey and took me in with his eyes. I stopped and lifted my left heel a little to let my knee curve in so I was posed for maximum showing off.

“Wow.” It was all he said for at least five to ten seconds. I was starting to feel a little self-conscious, but that punchy look that was on his face turned to delight.

Even Kelsey was confused for a second as she watched his reaction. Once he smiled, she frowned and then rolled her eyes. “It’s just an outfit.”

He shook his head minutely. “It’s the girl in the outfit.”

Okay, I may have felt a little flutter in my chest when he said that. He was smooth, that was always a given, and nobody had ever said anything like that about me before. Maybe it was just the new experience that made me feel a little lighter than normal. That was probably it.

Finally, Kelsey punched him on the arm. “Wake up, Romeo. Your date is waiting for you to unzombiefy.”

He blinked and then his face started to redden. It might have been the cold, flushing his cheeks, but something made me doubt that.

“Your coat. It’s pretty cold out there,” he said, covering himself pretty well.

“In the closet.” I pointed. “The black wool one.”

Kelsey gave me a look and moved over to me when he turned to retrieve it. “Fine, we’ll do your girly routine this weekend. He never looked at me like that.”

I grinned at her and bussed her cheek with my own. “Don’t wait up.”

“Try not to get pregnant.”

~O~

“Keep your eyes on the road, Brandon.”

He jerked the steering wheel just a tad to stay centered. “Sorry, you’re just…”

“Distracting, obviously.”

I checked to see if there was any traffic around us. We were currently in a lull, so I unbuckled my seatbelt and scooted to the center to attach the next belt.

“There, I’m next to you. Is that better?”

Reasoning the further away I was, the more he had to look away from the road, I figured the new position would be less of a problem for him. Instead of looking down, he relaxed and set a hand on my left leg, right where the top of my OTK sock ended and my skirt began. There was about two inches of skin bared. I was about to complain that he needed two hands on the wheel, but he seemed more at ease so I left it alone and concentrated on what his hand was doing instead.

Having just been waxed, my skin was very smooth and ultra-sensitive. Something I’d never noticed about Brandon was how large his hands were, nor how soft. Usually large manly hands equate to rough and callused. It was just the opposite with him and darn it, I liked the way they felt.

Having nothing to do with my left hand, other than to set them in my lap, I returned the favor and slipped it under his arm and on his upper thigh, where it sat quite comfortably. This in turn made me inch closer and lean against him.

“I like your perfume,” he said casually.

I grinned. “I’d tell you what it is, but I don’t want to give you any ideas.”

That only edged him on wanting to know more which increased the amount of thigh he was grasping. “Tell me. I’ll be good.”

“Bombshell Seduction by Victoria’s Secret. Don’t read anything into me choosing that particular scent. I’m not a bombshell and I’m not meaning to seduce you.”

He smirked. “Wrong on both counts.”

“Please,” I said with disbelief. “I’d need about two more cup sizes and about four more inches on my hips to enter bombshell territory.”

A glance out of the corner of my eye saw Brandon smiling at the thought. The thing was that was actually a possibility for me. It wasn’t like I had to stick with the B-cup prosthesis, and I could purchase thicker hip molds. Of course then I’d have to buy a whole new wardrobe, all of which wasn’t possible without large amounts of money.

There was another possibility that had made its way through my head more than a few times, but that was taking things a bit far considering I still wasn’t totally sure about what I was doing.

“If you keep doing that, I’m going to have a wreck,” he said out of the blue.

“What?”

“Your hand.”

I looked down and saw that it had inched up into dangerous territory and I was squeezing him somewhat firmly.

“Whoops, sorry.”

Moving it halfway down his thigh, I squeezed him once and let my hand settle.

“Not that I don’t like it,” he clarified. “I just like it too much and I know that’s not part of what you want to do.”

I licked my lips self-consciously. “So you’re not going to pressure me?”

Brandon shook his head. “I knew what I was getting myself into when I asked you out. You’ve been fairly vocal about the Society’s rules… and the other girls in your club that are dating some of my brothers. They’ve made it pretty clear too.”

That made me feel proud of them, that they were holding to the Society’s values even when I wasn’t there to disapprove. Deep down, they wanted to be good girls, most of them anyway. The world had changed a lot over the last forty years. Sex had become an automatic way to become closer with a boy while everything else, romance included, had been virtually abandoned. It was more acceptable nowadays to just be one of the promiscuous girls bragging to each other about their conquests much like guys did. In effect, they were guys.

They pretty much wore the same clothes, worked the same jobs, and acted the same way. The only thing that differentiated them from guys was they had Slot B for the guys Tab A. It was truly depressing for me. I always thought girls were better than that. Maybe it was my upbringing. Daddy always treated Mom like she was a queen. The house was her kingdom and Kelsey and I were the prince and princess, though at that moment we were both princesses which I really loved.

The scary part was I loved it more and more with each new day. If I had to give up everything that made me a girl, I’d probably have a breakdown. I’d definitely be depressed. I’d lose my friends, all my clothes, and my routine that I grew to love every morning. I’d also lose the Society which gave me the opportunity to be who I truly was.

~O~

When we reached the city a lot earlier than I thought we would, I took Brandon’s suggestion from Tuesday and we stopped by the little headquarters of the SPFV. I’d only been there once to have my picture taken for placement on their scholarship wall next to the other recipients, but I’d corresponded several times with a number of the members.

Brandon was a little uneasy, but once I set my hand in his and tugged him along with a smile, I could see it helped.

“Don’t worry; we won’t turn you into a girl just yet.”

It was a one story house specifically designed to give old ladies a place to gossip, quilt, play gin rummy, and whatever ever else old ladies did to pass the time. A little plaque to the side of the door showed the name of the organization and a welcome to enter, which we did.

An electronic doorbell went off when I opened the main door. A few moments later I heard hard-soled shoes against the equally hard wood floor and the recognized the head of the organization Martha Burke coming around the corner with a pleasant smile on her face.

“Hello, Mrs. Burke,” I said.

She was a widow going on ten years, but she still insisted on being called by her formal name.

“As I live and breathe, little Kayla. We weren’t expecting you.”

She came up and we bussed cheeks. I smelled a scent that always reminded me of my grandmother and brought back happy memories of staying with her when I was younger.

“Sorry for dropping in unannounced, but we were in town and Brandon insisted on coming and seeing where the Society started.”

Mrs. Burke’s eyes drifted to my date and she took him in, seemingly with approval. Brandon was dressed fairly conservatively for a concert and overly conservative for a student which I’m sure Mrs. Burke approved of.

I made introductions and explained that we were in town for our first date, which explained my less than conservative attire. I just received a look that said, kids.

She made us some tea, but we refused the cookies because we were going to dinner.

“I hear tale that you’ve added another four names to the Society’s roster.”

With a proud smile I nodded. “That brings the total to forty-three, Mrs. Burke.”

She beamed at me. “We always thought we were doing well with one girl a year spreading a little of her influence, but you’ve put them all to shame, Kayla.”

“It’s not just me. Hannah and Avery had been doing very well. I couldn’t have done it without their influence and support.”

Brandon leaned in and set his cup and saucer down. “Kayla is being overly modest, Mrs. Burke. She’s single-handedly changed the minds of an entire fraternity as well.”

That perked her interest and I was immediately embarrassed. “Do tell, Brandon. Don’t leave an old lady in suspense.”

I leaned to the side and half covered my face while looking away.

“Kayla’s first week at school she was escorted to small social event and her companion for the evening was less than gentlemanly. Nothing untoward, I assure you, but his actions were noticed by her and promptly disapproved of in front of a number of people.

“The ladies of two sororities noticed and spread the word that such behavior wasn’t going to be tolerated anymore. They were to be treated like the ladies they were. I believe Hannah and Avery were two of them if I’m not mistaken.”

Brandon was stretching things a little, or possibly even a lot, but he told a sincere story.

I nodded. “Samantha, Emma, and Grace as well.”

He nodded like he was recalling them. “That’s right, your inner circle, so to speak.”

“Nothing so melodramatic, Brandon.”

He chuckled. “I disagree, but will defer to you since you’re in a position to know better. Where was I… oh yes. Once word had spread through the ladies to the men of my fraternity, we had a few meetings about how we could make amends. The final decision was simple, but life changing as well, Mrs. Burke. We would be gentlemen.”

She hmm’ed to herself and then looked at me. “You kids should be getting along if you’re to make your reservations. Kayla, would you help me with the dishes?”

“Of course, Mrs. Burke.”

I carried the serving tray to the kitchen while Mrs. Burke filled the sink with soap and water. Somehow I knew she never used a dishwasher, especially with fine china.

“Close the door, dear.”

Trepidation crawled its way up my spine as I felt I was about to get a scolding.

When she turned to me, I was a little shocked to see her step into me with a small hug.

“You’ve got yourself a good beau there, Kayla. It’s obvious he thinks the world of you to make up a tale like that.”

I sighed with amusement. “He stretched the truth a little to make me look better, but for the most part it was all like Brandon said. I was embarrassed, broke it off with my date, and impressed the girls so much that they wanted to be treated the same. I don’t know about any formal meetings, but I bet the boys got together and realized they messed up.”

Mrs. Burke’s smirked and nodded. “That sounds more like the way things work.”

While she washed, I rinsed and dried the dishes. “One really good thing came of it though.”

“What’s that, dear?”

“Brandon and the other guys are being gentlemen.” I stopped for a second and remembered Wednesday at lunch. “Well, for the most part. He’s been very aggressive in pursuing me: asking my sister for permission, arranging for this grand excursion, and asking me out even amongst all my girlfriends when I put him on the spot.”

She lurched a little with mirth. “Sounds like my Herman, God rest his soul. Woe betide anyone that stood between he and I before our courting days.”

Once we were finished I set the china in the proper cabinet and took off my apron to hang.

“We’ll be seeing you when you are finished with your studies next week?” she asked me.

I nodded. “I take my last final on Thursday and pack for home on Friday. So I’ll be here for the meeting on Saturday afternoon.”

It was a meeting to determine if I’d been following the rules properly, for the most part. Formalities had to be followed even though I knew they were pleased with my efforts so far.

“Very good. Now, let’s go find your young beau.”

~O~

Dinner was fun and Brandon even funnier as he tried his best to make me laugh out loud all through the meal. I refused though, just on principle. Making things too easy on him would only encourage his attentions and I wanted those to relax. I swear, being with him, there were times that I would totally forget I was a boy underneath the feminine mask I was wearing. It was a heady feeling and would only lead to heartache if I let it.

I believed him when he told me that his views about his sexuality had altered. The thing that was weighing so hard on my mind, when I snapped back to reality, was what would happen if I let things go to that place. Once I was out of my clothes, it would be apparent to a blind man that I wasn’t a real girl and my mystique would disappear. I would be just another boy and so would he. So carrying this farce any further was just that.

“You look like you’re thinking too hard,” Brandon said as he squeezed my leg on the way to the arena were Ke$ha was playing.

I painted on a fake smile and shook my head. “I’m fine.”

“You really should never ever play poker. You’re an awful liar.”

When we stopped at a red light, I looked up at him and then back down. “Brandon, would you promise me something?”

It was easy to see he was about to just say yes without any thought, but he stopped and looked at me. “Okay.”

I licked my lips, stalling for courage. “I’m not saying it’s going to happen tonight — definitely not tonight — but sometime in the future, if we…”

The words wouldn’t even leave my mouth.

“Yes?” he said, prompting me.

“Sex.”

“Oh. Um, okay. What is it you need me to promise about if or when that ever becomes an issue?”

My face was near glowing with heat by the time I’d forced the words up and out. “If it ever happens, promise me you won’t make me totally undress, or better yet make sure it’s dark too.”

He immediately became confused. “Is this a kinky thing or something?”

I squeezed his leg fairly hard. “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he said. “I don’t get it. What difference would it make? You already know I think you’re beautiful.”

My breath hitched and I felt my eyes start to pool. Actually I didn’t know that. Sure I’d seen him speechless a few times when I was looking particularly pretty, but he’d never really said it before.

“Without my clothes and makeup, I’m not.”

“Oh…”

I think he finally got what I was talking about, but we couldn’t continue because the light had changed to green and some impatient jerk behind us was honking his horn.

I felt like a dork bringing up such a subject on a first date. Who does that?

Trying to figure a way out of the situation, I just blurted out, “Forget I said anything. I’m sorry I brought it up. I shouldn’t have…”

“I think I was the one that pried, Kayla. It’s okay. I’m glad we talked about it. It lets me know what’s going on in your head.”

The tension in my chest, that I wasn’t aware of, eased.

“It’s probably not proper first date protocol to mention previous girlfriends,” he said.

I snorted. “I think protocol got thrown out at the last stoplight, run over a few times, rolled by a mugger, and laid out in a dirty ally. Go ahead.”

He smiled for a moment and finished his right turn on a new street.

“My past girlfriends were… let’s say that I really needed to be able to read their minds. I hated it. It’s kind of cliché that the guy is supposed to magically know what’s wrong and automatically know what to say to make everything feel better. I’ll go ahead and let you know right now that I don’t.”

“Girls don’t know either, but I know what you’re saying,” I agreed.

“So, if I’m doing something or not doing something that as a guy, I’m supposed to be doing, let me know. I’m still pretty new to this whole relationship thing.”

Backing away, I turned to get a good look at him. “You dated my sister for almost a year.”

He shook his head. “No, your sister and I had sex for almost a year. We occasionally went out, but it wasn’t anything much beyond that. During summer break, I tried calling and even emailing. She never initiated anything.”

“She’s kind of bipolar.”

He snorted. “That’s saying it mildly.”

“She’s still my sister,” I said rather firmly. Even though she could be incredibly mean sometimes, I still loved her.

“Sorry.”

With an agreeable noise I leaned my head against Brandon’s shoulder.

~O~

“Pick anything you want.”

I looked at all the concert stuff for sale and then back at Brandon. “Anything?”

He shrugged.

It was mostly t-shirts and pins, some CD’s — which I already had — and stupid stuff I’d never buy anyway. Ke$ha, while being one of my favorite singers, wasn’t a very good role model, and her songs were kind of slutty in nature, but they were great to dance to and very addictive when they’re in your iPod shuffle mix. I settled for a pin and token necklace, and Brandon got a shirt for himself. Apparently he had a collection from all the concerts he’s gone to.

He got an impromptu kiss on the cheek for the thought. I don’t know why else I did it.

The seats were good, not great, and definitely not bad. I could actually see her face on stage and not have to squint like I usually do. The music was way loud and by the time the concert was over my ears were ringing, but I was in a really good mood.

I thought we’d be heading home, however I’d forgotten about a portion of the date that Brandon promised on Wednesday. The waterfall at Kensington Place. It was a fifteen story high manmade waterfall in a well-lit park in a good portion of town. I’d been to it before when I was younger, but it was a much more romantic experience on a date.

Brandon held my hand as we walked around and looked at the lights. He led me to the safety wall at the front center. The air was humid and it was very cold, but once his arm went around me I warmed right up.

“How’d you enjoy the night?” he asked.

I grinned and looked up at him. “It was fun. Thanks for being a stalker creep who embarrassed me in front of my friends and asking me out.”

He chuckled. “My pleasure.”

Before I knew it, he had his hands underneath my arms and was lifting me up so I could sit on the wall, which made us exactly the same height, while he snuggled himself between my legs. The position was a little crude, but I enjoyed the intimacy. I hadn’t received a lot over the last year and I was craving it, even if it was being given by a guy.

“Tell me about your plans for the future,” he asked.

I shrugged absentmindedly. “School for the next three years and work for the Society. I really don’t have anything else on the agenda.”

He looked like he was considering my words. “How about after?”

“I try not to think that far ahead. Things change too much. Like this.” I waved down the front of my body. “Last year at this time if you would have said I’d look like this and enjoy being on a date with a boy, I would have said you were crazy.”

He smile and laughed to himself. “Do you think you might want to stay like this?”

It was easy to see where he was going with his line of questioning. “Probably. I won’t say definitely, because who knows what might happen, but if I had my choice right now then I’d be a girl for a long long time.”

Brandon was staring at my lips before his eyes moved up to meet mine. “I’ve been thinking about what you said in the truck, about how you don’t look good without all the… things.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded slightly. “I look like a feminine boy, flat chest, no definition in my hips…”

“You could change that, you know? They… doctors I mean, can change that. They could make the body match the mind.”

With a sour exhale of air, I shook my head. “Tens of thousands of dollars later maybe, but I’m not rich, Brandon. I can’t even join a sorority because of all the dues much less afford hormones and multiple surgeries.”

Feeling myself draw in, I shivered because of the cold. “I’d rather not dream of what could be, just enjoy what little I am while I can.”

“I’m sorry I brought it up,” he almost whispered. “I was just trying to think of a way to make you happy. Don’t worry about whether or not I’ll find you attractive. I think you’re beautiful and if it’ll make you more comfortable with the lights off — if that ever happens, I mean — then the lights will be off.”

Lifting one side of my lips, I gave him a half smile as he pressed himself closer.

My boots found purchase behind his thighs, drawing him in even more for the first of many kisses.

~O~

Despite my words earlier, Kelsey was waiting up for me when I eventually found my way inside. There was a smile on her face, but then it dropped off.

“Your lipstick is perfect. Did you even give him a goodnight kiss?”

I smiled knowingly. “Maybe.”

“Did you go down on him? And if so, did you swallow? He really likes it when you swallow.”

“Ugh. Kelsey, do you have to be so crude?”

That just egged her on. “Come on, spill, little sister. I want the details.”

I breathed in and just sighed with contentment. “It was very romantic and Brandon was a perfect gentleman. Mrs. Burke even likes him.”

She looked confused. “Burke? You mean that old lady at the SPFV? You took him to visit the feminine-nazi?”

“Be nice, Kelsey. She’s the reason I got to go to college in the first place. She’s a very sweet lady.”

“Meh,” she replied, not really caring. “So, you’re dating a guy and you’re not even having any real fun. What’s the point?”

I searched for what I felt at that moment. “Brandon makes me feel feminine. He likes me for me and not necessarily for sex. If he continues to act the same way then he’ll eventually get that, but if that time comes, I want it to be perfect.”

Kelsey snorted and leaned back on the couch. “Sorry to break it to you Kayla, but the first time is never perfect. It hurts, it’s usually rushed because you’re all excited to get to it, and afterward you just want an ice pack and a warm bath. Believe me, I know.”

I frowned at her and she just smirked back.

“Something else to think about,” she said. “Yours is going to be worse, because you’re a virgin back there — unless there’s something you haven’t told me — and Brandon is nicely gifted. Why do you think I stayed with him for so long?”

With a sigh, I hitched my purse higher on my shoulder. Why did she always have to ruin everything?

“Why can’t you just be happy for me for one time in your miserable life?” I snapped. “I didn’t think that I’d like him and he surprised me. He was really nice. Why can’t you just be nice to me instead of this superb bitch all the time! Have I ever said anything bad about any of your boyfriends? No. Why can’t you just support me in something that I do… just once!”

With that I ran to my bedroom and slammed the door.

TBC...

Author's Note: Here's something that I've been working on for the last few months, on and off. I've got a few chapters finished, but it's more of a serial than a story that will take a while to complete. Photo Credit: Amye E.

Episode Three

When I got back from taking my last final, I started packing immediately. Brandon was going to give me a ride home for Christmas break so I didn’t have to sit in an SUV with Kelsey for an hour and a half.

My sister and I weren’t talking to each other after my explosion the previous Friday night. I’d had enough of dealing with her attitude and the way she treats me and until she apologized and made amends, she was persona non grata in my life.

Besides, Brandon was a lot cuter than her or Daddy. Time would be much better spent with him anyway.

I’d already packed my clothes and non-essential odds and ends over the week, leaving out only what I needed to exist on. So naturally my makeup and three outfits were still out. I couldn’t decide on what to wear with the funky weather we were having. One day it was eighty degrees and the next it was thirty.

Friday was a mid-fifties day so I showered and made sure I was groomed properly and smelled sweet before donning a sapphire blue long sleeved, cowlneck sweater dress with suede low heeled slouchy boots that made it most of the way up my calf. It exposed a little more leg than I normally showed, but I probably wouldn’t be seeing Brandon for the majority of the break and I wanted his mind firmly on me before we parted company.

Since the date on Friday, we’d spent a lot of time studying together for exams. It wasn’t romantic in the least, but it was also some of the best romantic time I’ve spent with a boy. I’m contradicting myself, I know.

The thing is, we were actually studying, but in doing so we were together. Occasionally I’d look up to see him watching me or he’d to the same to me. By the end of our sessions we’d have a little personal time that I thoroughly enjoyed. It was amazing how much I liked kissing him. It was totally different from when I kissed a girl, and I’m not sure I could explain how the types differed. I just knew when I was in his arms, being taken in such a way, I felt utterly feminine. There were no thoughts of being gay or what would happen in the future. There was just two people sharing a little of themselves for a measured moment.

Our togetherness never ventured to the point of impropriety and I was thankful for that. If that happened it would be much further down the road. Kelsey’s warning about pain had its effect on my mind. I was terrified of doing anything of the sort, but knew if I stayed the course that I would, eventually.

When I was finished, I sat at my desk chair and listened to some music while I did some light personal reading until I heard a knock on the door about two hours later.

I nearly bolted to the front door and stopped to get myself together so I wouldn’t look overeager.

Brandon was there, looking smart in a nice pair of jeans and one of those thick nautical sweaters. He took me in as I posed, using the door as a prop then he shook his head with a smile.

“How do you look so good all the time?”

I grinned at his approval as he leaned in for a light kiss. When he pulled back, I ran my thumb over the bottom of his lip as I thought briefly of taking him to my room for the rest of the afternoon. It was a quick fantasy, nothing I’d act on.

“The same way you always know what to say whenever you see me.”

Kelsey’s door closed behind me and I rolled my eyes.

Brandon looked up with resignation. “Still being unreasonable?”

Unreasonable was his way of saying bitchy. I nodded. “Can you give me a hand with my things?”

~O~

The middle seat of Brandon’s truck was officially mine, and my left leg was officially his whenever we went somewhere. It was a pleasant feeling to be claimed in that way. The action wasn’t anything caveman’ish, but when he had his hand on the inner middle of my bare thigh, I felt like I was his even though he still hadn’t claimed me as his girlfriend.

It was beginning to get frustrating. I knew he wasn’t seeing anyone else, because all of our free time was spent with each other, but I still wanted something more substantial. My lips were sealed though. I wasn’t going to be one of those cliché girls that want to tie a man down or ask for a deeper commitment. If he didn’t ask me by the beginning of the new semester though, I’d say something. I distinctly recalled that he wanted me to tell him things that he was supposed to do. I’d leave him with a month to play with before I said anything though.

Without that he was free as was I. The thought of him with anyone else, raised my ire as the thought of me being with some other guy made me ill. I wasn’t saying it was true love or anything, but I was attached, if that makes sense.

When we reached my house, Mom was out front in seconds, pulling me into a hug.

“Kayla!”

She took me in quickly before we hugged tightly.

“I missed you, honey,” she said.

“I missed you too, Mom.” Pulling away, I beamed at her. “I’ve got so much to tell you.”

Her eyes moved to the side and I could see she’d already spotted Brandon. Letting go of her, I went back to him and grabbed his upper arm firmly ensconcing myself at his side.

“Mom, I want you to meet my bo… um, uh… this is Brandon.” How embarrassing do you think that was? Any clue?

Mom’s face went into questioning mode before her eyes widened. “Kelsey’s Brandon?”

“No, mine!” Realizing how that sounded I tried to cover it up. “I mean… they broke up a while back.”

I was making a total buttface of myself.

Mom went quiet as they shook hands then she was all business. “Let’s get your luggage, Kayla.”

I made a hurt sound with my throat. “But…”

She cleared her throat rather rudely. “Thank you for bringing my daughter home, Brandon, but I think it’s best if we let you get home yourself.”

Looking up at him I saw resignation settle. “It’s okay, Kayla. I kind of expected this. Remember the kind of relationship Kelsey and I had.”

“But…”

“Look,” he said. “I’ll call you tonight and we can plan something, a date or whatever you want to do.”

My face was pinched. I’m sure it wasn’t a pretty sight. “Brandon,” I whined and whispered at the same time.”

“Kayla,” Mom snapped and I jumped.

“Coming.”

Brandon helped us bring my luggage in, but when I tried to go outside to give him a decent kiss goodbye, Mom wouldn’t let me. Instead I had to settle for a brotherly kiss on the cheek which was entirely lame, but it looked like he understood the situation, which was more than I could say for myself.

I stood at the window and watched as he drove away then I spun around. “How could you!”

She gave me a look I was quite familiar with, one that said I better lower my voice.

“I know about that boy and what Kelsey and he have been up to,” Mom said.

“Tcha! He’s not like that anymore. What, do you think we’re having sex at all hours and I’m ignoring school?”

The look she gave me said exactly that.

“I’m a virgin, Mother. Brandon hasn’t ever gone beyond kissing me, ever. What he and Kelsey got up to is none of my business, because it doesn’t affect me.”

“It does if you wind up with some incurable disease.”

I think I was seeing fire by that point because I have never went off on my mom.

“Just because Kelsey is a slut doesn’t mean I am.”

She pointed at me. “You’d better watch your mouth, young man, or have you forgotten about that as well. What do you think that boy is going to do to you when he finds out…”

I didn’t hear any more of what she said, because that first statement was like a knife in my chest. Pushing my way past her I ran to my room and locked my door. Finding an empty corner I slid my back down the wall and pulled my knees up, bawling my eyes out.

A few moments later there was a knock sounded. “Kayla… open the door.”

“Go away!” I half yelled half cried. “I hate you!”

~O~

A few hours had gone by while I contemplated calling Brandon and having him drive me back up to school. The Society House was finished for the most part. I could probably stay there over the winter break, because I didn’t want anything to do with my mother or my sister. Only God knew what Dad was going to say about the situation.

That’s why I didn’t unpack and simply sat on my bed with my iPod blaring while I held my cell, waiting for him to call. Behind the music, every once in a while, I could hear banging on my door, but I just yelled back that I was busy.

That didn’t stop my sister from picking the lock. It was one of those that only needed a small screwdriver to break in. The only thing that was close enough to throw at her was a pillow, so I didn’t bother.

“Get out,” I said as I pulled my ear buds free.

“Don’t be stupid. You’re acting like a twelve year old.”

“Kelsey, I swear…”

“It’s either me or Mom; your choice.”

“How about neither of you.” I stood to the opposite side of the bed and dropped the iPod, but kept my cell firmly in my hand. “How did I all the sudden become the pariah of the family. I’ve actually been the good one. I make good grades. I don’t stay out late getting drunk. I don’t even drink. I’m not a slu…” I thought better of saying that then continued my rant.

“Mom was totally rude to Brandon, pretty much called me a slut, and a liar because she thinks I’d hide my situation from him. Then she called me a young man. Seriously? Do you see a man anywhere in this room? She was totally behind this idea and now she’s throwing it in my face. I’m not a man! I’m a girl!”

The door opened and I saw my mother standing there.

“I don’t want to talk to you. Why can’t you two leave me alone!”

Kelsey closed her mouth with a snap and looked at me like I was losing it, which I probably was. With a turn, she exited the room and closed the door behind her while I started crying all over again.

By seven that night, I could barely keep my eyes open because I was so emotionally exhausted. Then another knock came at my door. By this time, I’d gotten my anger out, but I still managed a perfectly good whine.

“Go away.”

“Kayla, it’s me. Can I come in?”

Brandon!

“Oh my god! I’m a mess. No!”

“I don’t care what you look like. Please?”

Looking around for a bag to put over my head, I was at a total loss so I settled for a pillow to cover my face.

“Come in.”

When I heard the door close behind him I waited until he was close enough to drop the pillow and bury my face in his chest sobbing quietly.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he crooned.

“No it’s not,” I said. “They’re so mean to me and I didn’t do anything.”

He brushed my hair with his fingers. “I know. Kelsey called and told me what happened. She and I had a talk with your mom and explained everything. She feels terrible, baby.”

I mulled that over for a moment, but it didn’t make me feel any better. In my head, moms were supposed to be accepting and understanding. I know that’s not the way that the real world works, but if she could be accepting of Kelsey making a B-C average and being a slut then why was she coming down so hard on me?

“Can you take me back to school?”

“No,” he said gently. “You need to stay here and work this out with your mother.”

I made an annoyed sound and buried my face further into him, trying my best not to get any of my streaked makeup on his sweater.

“Kayla, your mom suggested that you need to see a professional.” When I stiffened, Brandon held on. “I’m talking about a psychiatrist who specializes in gender issues.”

“I’m not crazy,” I said with a hurt sound to my voice.

“I never said you were, baby. The kind of doctor I’m thinking of is one that can help you figure out where you stand, and if he agrees with you about being a girl then he’s the one that can help you along, medically.”

“You mean the hormones that I can’t afford?”

He nodded, still brushing my hair. “Yes. And you won’t need to afford them. While you’re a student, your dad’s insurance might cover them. He’s supposed to look into it, but it’s already the weekend, so he can’t really do anything until Monday.”

I licked my lips. “How long have you guys been talking?”

“A while.”

Everyone sounded a little too well informed and I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about everyone in my business, but it was what I wanted so I didn’t make a stink about it. However, I’d have to set some boundaries soon. People have a tendency to push and see exactly how far they can go. Brandon has reached that point and my mom and sister have stepped over the line. My dad seemed to be keeping quiet on the issue so far, which I appreciated.

“Why don’t you go splash some water on your face and we can go talk to them together,” he said.

“I don’t want to talk to them. They really hurt me, Brandon.”

“Kayla…”

“I’m serious. I don’t want to talk to them tonight.”

~O~

Brandon stayed for just a bit longer, but since I wouldn’t let him look me in the face we had little to do except talk about what happened.

After he left I went to the bathroom and took off my incredibly destroyed makeup. I looked like a zombie afterward. After checking the hall to make sure nobody was lying in wait, I went back and bedded down for the night.

The next morning was less than stellar. I woke late and then sorted through my clothes for the one suit that I had. The skirt was wrinkled and I had to go to the kitchen in order to use the iron. It was already ten in the morning so Dad was in the garage doing something to the cars and Kelsey had another hour or so before she was due to awaken, but Mom was sitting at the breakfast table on her laptop.

“Good morning,” she said as I entered the kitchen.

I grunted and went to the utility room to set up the ironing board and iron. While I waited for it to heat up, I straighten the skirt. It was a high waist pencil skirt that, if worn properly would hit me right above the knees. I’d definitely have to wear my cincher for that particular item. The one thing I liked about it was I looked absolutely fantastic in the suit. The bad thing was that it was my only one and I’d worn it to the introductory meeting as well.

They’d have to understand that I wasn’t rich. It was the whole reason I needed a scholarship in the first place.

“Kayla…”

Mom stood at the doorway with a depressed look on her face.

“I’ve got a meeting with the SPFV at one o’clock regarding my scholarship standing,” I said. “Can you not make me cry again before then? My eyes are still puffy from last night and I don’t know if I can cover up the damage.”

She flinched slightly and then licked her lips. “Can I make you some breakfast?”

Why can’t she just leave me alone? “I’m not hungry.”

Her lips pursed. I could tell she wanted to say something else, but wound up holding her tongue instead. Cheers for me.

Ten minutes later, my skirt was pressed and I checked the faux double-breasted hourglass jacket that went with it. I loved the big black buttons that came to a vee-point right over my navel. It made my waist look a lot smaller than it actually was. With the cincher, it made my hips appear larger and much more flattering.

I ironed one wrinkle on it and then put everything back up before returning to my room to get ready.

Two hours later and a second attempt on my makeup produced the desired results. The one thing about my outfit, I could wear it with or without hose. Since I wasn’t a big fan of pantyhose — they always felt like they were inching down my butt — I chose hold up stockings instead. They always made me feel more feminine for some reason, and due to the heat, I very rarely got to wear them. Thank goodness for winter.

Once my four inch red patient faux leather heels were on, I felt very businesslike. I doubted most girls wore four inch heels to the office, but for the meeting they were perfect.

Grabbing my purse, I walked out to the living room and looked for Daddy. Mom was still sitting at the breakfast table and she saw me looking around.

“He had to run to the store,” she said. “I’ll take you to your meeting.”

I wanted to protest. Forty-five minutes in the car with my mother was going to be a nightmare. Looking back toward Kelsey’s bedroom, I frowned.

“She’s still asleep and unless you have cab fare then you’ll have to settle for me.”

Without saying anything, I nodded and headed outside to her Impala and got in the back seat. A few minutes later, Mom came out in a nice dress with her hair brushed out. It annoyed me how good she could look with minimal makeup. What took me two hours to achieve she could do in thirty minutes.

She paused for a moment and looked in the back at me before getting in and starting down the road.

“I thought we might have a late lunch afterward, just you and me,” she said.

Opening my purse, I took out my cell and pulled up Hannah’s number. “They’re serving lunch at the meeting. I have to watch my figure.”

And with that said I punched my friend’s number and chatted with her for the entire trip. Who says I can’t avoid confrontation?

When we pulled up in the parking lot, Mom found an empty space and I looked at her in a semi-panic.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m coming in with you,” she said. “I’m interested in how you are doing at school too, Kayla.”

“What? No!”

She gave me a look that informed me there would be no backtalk. “If you won’t talk to me then I’ll find out by other ways.”

My lips firmed. “Don’t embarrass me in front of them, Mom. My work and school are important to me. Don’t take this away from me too.”

Turning in her seat, she looked at me questioningly. “What have I taken away from you?”

I held up my hand, ticking off three fingers, and started to feel my eyes burn. “My boyfriend, my self-respect, and my femininity, all in the span of five minutes. I can’t imagine what you could do with a full hour.”

She looked away and I could see that she finally understood what she did to me the previous night. I may have been harsh, but I wasn’t going to have everything I’d worked so hard for, destroyed by anyone, even if they were related to me.

Without saying another word, I opened my door and stepped out, putting on as good as a smile as I could under the circumstances. When I reached the back of the car, I heard Mom’s door open. I stopped and turned back. It wasn’t a surprise that she decided to stay. Regardless of my current opinion of her, she’s never been one to back down from what she thinks is right. Maybe that’s where I got my drive from.

We walked up to the front door together and before I had a chance to grasp the handle, the door was opened by a girl in her early twenties dressed in a server’s uniform.

There was a nice buffet being set up in the sitting room to the right and we were directed to the larger board room, which was probably one a formal living room a little further to the back on the left. Inside was rectangular table, which I was familiar with from the last official visit I attended.

Mrs. Burke was the closest to the door and her warm smile immediately put me at ease.

“Kayla, welcome. You’re right on time.” When her eyes fell behind me I moved to the side. “And your mother as well. We always welcome the parents of our girls. There are a few chairs to the right here. Please make yourself comfortable.”

She took me by the elbow and led me around the desk to the far side in the middle so that everyone could get a good look at me I suppose and make sure I haven’t gotten any strange piercings or something unladylike.

Ten other ladies were there, all in their seventies and eighties it seemed, with Mrs. Burke at the head of the table as the eleventh.

I’d done my research on them before starting this whole thing. Most of them were very well-off retirees and all but two of them were widows. Each donated a small portion of their wealth to the SPFV for future endowments, but none of them held a candle to Mrs. Burke. This was her baby and everyone knew it.

When she sat down the various chatting came to a close.

“We’ve taken care of old and new business and as our newest scholarship recipient is with us it’s time to review her conduct and grade reports for any future endowment we seem fit to award.”

Like the last time I faced these ladies, my stomach was busy producing a large amount of butterflies. On top of the previous night’s drama and my mother’s added gift of stress for that morning, I was feeling particularly green, but I hid it as best as I could.

“Kayla’s reported grades have all been more than satisfactory, achieving a four-point-oh in all of her chosen classes. We await her final scores, but from what we’ve seen, I doubt there’s any room to worry about her commitment to her studies. Well done, my dear.”

Mrs. Burke smiled at me and I did so back to her.

“Thank you.”

She cleared her throat with a minor ahem. “Now, as to the various reports as to her behavior…”

My mother sat up and leaned forward. I almost scowled at her, but held myself back.

“Fifteen observation reports were submitted,” she began. My eyes went wide at the large number. I would have never thought I’d been observed even once. “and I’m troubled to report that none of them are anything less than a hundred percent positive.”

At the start of her sentence I was panicked. Obviously I’d been busted doing something I shouldn’t have been, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what it was or even when. Then the last part put everything into a mess of confusion which I’m sure showed comically on my face.

“Kayla,” she said as she set the reports aside. “Every year that we’ve awarded this scholarship to someone we thought was a model for the ways of the SPFV, we’ve been proven wrong. Most of the girls fail within the first few weeks and none of them have made it through the first semester without succumbing to some sordid misdeed that caused us to invoke article nine of our contract.”

Article nine was the repayment clause of which I supremely paranoid over.

“We started awarding scholarships in the fall of 1985, so you can calculate for yourself the number of girls that have presented to us a false front in their belief of our Society’s goals. You are the first to make it this far and I must say that you have done so in the most explosive of ways.”

I looked around at some of the ladies present. Most were smiling proudly at me, all except for one at the other end of the table as she was nodding off in her seat.

“Instead of simply adhering to standards of our charter which behooves us to encourage at least one person a day to explore their feminine side in a simple way, Kayla has recruited others to our cause. In turn, they have done the same. As of this morning, I received an email from one Avery Woodstead, a founding member of the newly formed Society Club at the university Kayla attends.”

Oh crud. I forgot to check my email. What happened?

“She was pleased to report the addition of two more members bringing the total to forty-five.”

Pleased murmurs sounded around the table as I grinned at Avery’s efforts. She really is a very charismatic speaker. It was with no shock that she brings in almost as many people as I do.

“Fifteen of these girls, in the coming semester, will be living at our newly renovated Society House located off campus. They will be supporting each other and those around them in feminine solidarity. What we want to know, little Kayla, is if you will be there as a shining example of what the SPFV created for in the first place?”

I smiled brightly and nodded as I felt my eyes burn at her belief in me. “Yes, Mrs. Burke. With your support, I’d love to be there.”

She beamed back at me. “Agatha, give her a tissue, or she’ll spoil that pretty face.”

The lady next to me, Agatha I guessed, produced a small pack of travel tissues, pulling one out and handing it to me. I thanked her and dabbed at the corners of my eyes, trying my best not to cry. I was going back to college with their full support. I hadn’t screwed up!

There was one thing I was confused about though. Why was she troubled at the reports? At that point, I didn’t care. She could be troubled all she wanted as long as I got to go to school and be with my friends, and Brandon as well.

~O~

The meeting went on for a few more minutes while we set a precedent and ironed out the stipulations for the following semester, but it was all academic stuff that we’d done before, so it went quickly.

Once everyone was dismissed to the front for lunch, Mrs. Burke held me back. Some of the other ladies kidnapped my mother which was fine with me as long as she kept her conversation on innocent topics.

“Kayla,” she said. “Come down here. Sit by me.”

I nodded and clicked my heels on the gleaming hardwood until I was seated beside the chairperson of the SPFV. She looked tired.

“Don’t look at me that way,” she said playfully. “These things take a lot out of me nowadays. It’s not as easy as it was thirty years ago when I could just go check up on my girls at the campus. Now we pay people to do that. Fifteen glowing reports, Kayla!” She patted my hands which were on the table in front of me. “I’m so proud of you.”

The warmth I felt when she said that, erased almost all my trouble from the previous night. “Thank you.”

She scoffed. “You have nobody to thank but yourself, young lady. You’re the one that earned every bit of this scholarship and then some. You are such a good example for other girls out there, just starting off in this world on their own.”

“My friends help a lot, Mrs. Burke. I wouldn’t have gotten this far without them.”

“I know dear.”

With a final squeeze she closed her eyes and basked in an unseen light. “I’ve waited so long to see a glimmer of hope for the women of today. Each year it seems worse and worse.” She laughed to herself. “You should have seen me when those awful back tattoos became the rage. Tramp stamps indeed!”

I was a little more tolerant of that I suppose. Tattoos didn’t bother me as long as they were tasteful and not gigantic or anything, but I understood her fears and sympathized with her.

“A final bit of business and I’ll let you go be pestered by a bunch of nosy old ladies.”

Mrs. Burke opened the leather portfolio in front of her and withdrew an envelope before switching over to her professional persona once more.

“I’ve been contacted by a few people, Kayla. Word has gotten out about us, via your club, it seems.”

Before I could ask if it was something I did, she waved me down. “Nothing bad, I assure you. A few crackpots thinking we’re subverting feminist rights. It’s nothing that I haven’t dealt with in one form or another for decades. I just wanted to let you know that there have been positive responses as well.”

Holding my manicured hand against my breast I said with relief, “Oh, good.”

She nodded. “What can you tell me about a girl by the name of Carrie Williams?”

I blinked for a moment until her face came to me. “Oh… Carrie was at the party I was at near the beginning of the year, the one we talked about when I was here last week. We didn’t interact, but she’d overheard some of what I was telling the other girls. A couple of weeks later she contacted me through Samantha and I met with her at the Student Union.”

I wrinkled my nose as I remembered. “She wore those awful cut up clothes and had multiple facial piercings. Carrie is really into the alternative scene.”

Mrs. Burke watched me with rapt attention, nodding in understanding in all the right places.

“We talked, that was it. Some of it was about the Society, but mostly it was just about college life and high school, stuff like that. I tried calling her back a week later because I hadn’t heard from her, but her roommate said she’d dropped out of school.”

A sudden realization came over me. “Oh my gosh! It wasn’t because of something I said was it?”

Mrs. Burke patted my hand again. “It had nothing to do with you, Kayla, and a lot to do with you. Her father contacted me regarding your conversation with Carrie. I’m not going to betray confidences, but she’s had a troubled childhood. It’s nothing awful, just not the best circumstances.”

Relief let me lose the tightness in my stomach at coming to the conclusion I made her quit school in some way.

“From what I can see, dear, you were the right influence at exactly the right time in her life. She was going downhill even further, but found you instead. She left school so she could go home and start over fresh. Carrie will be returning to campus in the spring and she will be staying at the Society House.”

That sort of shocked me. I’m the one in charge of screening girls who’ll be living there and this was the first I’d heard of it.

“Mr. Williams made a sizable donation to the SPFV for our efforts, and he wants me to pass a message on to you. Whatever it is you are doing, young lady, keep doing it.”

She looked to the ceiling. “In the words of my Herbert, God bless his old soul, Words are nice. Cash is nicer.”

Mrs. Burke slid the envelope to me. “You’ll find his check has been deposited and control of the account is under your discretion, and there’s also a little extra something from me personally.”

My breath caught in my chest. “Mrs. Burke… you can’t…”

“Young lady, I’m eighty-three years old, I can do what I darn well please,” she said with a smile. “Now, the account is for your efforts on campus, a petty cash fund if you want to call it that. It’s for emergencies or necessities for the house that you will see fit to regulate. We’ll need receipts for tax reasons, so you’ll need to keep up with those.

The cash card inside is from me, for you personally. Update your wardrobe. You’re the face of the SPFV from this day forward and I won’t have my girls in anything but the latest feminine fashions. Keep up the good work and you’ll find another card for each semester you continue your education. Personally, I hope you go for a doctorate.”

~O~

A state of disbelief was how I spent the ride home after lunch. Mom had made her rounds to find out that all the ladies knew of me, from the reports I assumed and from the reaction I saw on her face as she talked to them I figured she was as stunned almost as much as me.

Once we reached the halfway point, I guess she thought she’d try again with me.

“I’m sorry I misjudged you, Kayla. I’m also sorry that I hurt you so badly. That wasn’t my intention.”

I continued to stare out the window, thinking about Mrs. Burke.

“You’re a different person than you were in high school. I should have seen that. Instead I thought another daughter had gotten away from me and… well, made the same decisions as her sister.”

I snorted softly to myself. The thought of spending a good portion of the day on my back with my legs in the air, like Kelsey, was almost insulting.

“Mrs. Burke allowed me to read the fifteen reports on your activities and she told me about a girl named Carrie.” There was a lengthy pause. “I’m very proud of you, sweetie.”

With a sigh, I closed my eyes and knew I should just forgive her so I could have some peace and quiet at home.

“Mom?”

She looked in the rearview mirror at me.

“Can we go shopping?”

~O~

The look on Kelsey’s face was priceless. She was sitting on the couch, watching TV — should I even bother with telling you that anymore; it’s pretty much the only thing she does — when I walked in loaded down with bags bearing the Ann Taylor name on the outside.

I went a little crazy, what can I say?

Spending the majority of my time there and some of the shoe stores in the mall was fantastic therapy. I finally understood what girls liked about it so much.

Anyway, Kelsey’s mouth dropped open and I saw how she watched me from the front door until I disappeared down the hall to my room.

Harsh whispers were heard by yours truly, mainly because I was really listening for them.

“How come she gets to go shopping at Ann Taylor when she gets mad and I have to go to Wal-Mart?” Kelsey whined.

Mom came back just at quick. “Because she paid for everything. When you can afford the higher end stores, I’ll be more than happy to take you as well.”

“What? She’s broke. She spent her last dollar on that outfit for her date on Friday.”

“Her scholarship committee chair was so impressed by how well your sister did with her extracurricular activities that she was given a debit card that was loaded up. Perhaps if you were to follow her example some of that windfall may drop in your direction, Kelsey.”

I pumped my hand in the air and yelled a whispered, “Yes!” It was petty, I know, but I’d always been the one that was supposed to follow her example. It was so satisfying to hear the reversal of roles.

Without stalling anymore, I made my way out to the front again with a smile on my face. Kelsey’s face looked seriously pained.

“There’s more?” she said with disbelief.

I just showed her my teeth in response.

Several shoe boxes were hauled in and my sister nearly lost it when I went back for a third time. I just heard a door slam in the distance when I went out for my single Victoria’s Secret bag which I really could have brought in with the second load, but I was wearing four inch heels for goodness sake. Why take the chance. Besides, it was a big bag.

Instead of emptying my suitcases, I hung up all my new clothes. I really didn’t go that crazy. My afternoon shopping spree consisted of five dresses, two suits, various undies, three pair of shoes and a pair of boots, as well as a bath, grooming, and perfume set from VS.

That was just the beginning. I was going to have a brilliant winter break.

Going through my suitcases, I tossed aside clothes that I was seriously sick of and wound up keeping a few outfits that I had grown attached to. The rest went to the bags for donation. Some other girl, or boy for that matter, could probably use them. They were still in good shape.

After that was finished I finished unloading the rest, trying on a few things again, just to see how they looked in normal light and not that fake type they have at the stores that almost always show clothes in the best possible way. Switching from outfit to outfit, my inner Kayla grew more confidant and self-assured. They were my clothes, purchased by me, with money I sort-of earned. Nothing was donated.

I wasn’t a secondhand girl anymore and the feeling that thought brought from within me was so incredibly satisfying that I went off in my thoughts about what it would be like to dump all the padding and have a real female body. Turning to the side, I brought my hands up and cupped my breast forms, not feeling my hands touch anything real was disappointing.

Sliding them down over my abdomen and over my hips, I felt the falseness there as well. Then lastly, my hand went over where I had tucked myself away, fantasizing its presence gone and in its place what should have been there.

Beyond all the melodrama, I knew at that point what I wanted to happen. Kevin had disappeared and in his place Kayla took over. He didn’t exist anymore and I never wanted to see him again. I wanted Kayla to stay long after I graduated college. I wanted to complete whatever process it took to make me into as much of a girl as I could be.

~O~

Staying with the final outfit, a three-quarter sleeve navy and white horizontal stripes with a nice crewneck, I slipped a pair of pantyhose up my legs — I said I liked stockings better, not that I’d never wear hose — and settled the dress over the top. The hem barely reached mid-thigh, definitely the most risqué I’d ever worn and most probably my upper limit as far as propriety went. My legs looked much better and felt almost energized as I stepped into the matching three inch pumps and added a few accessories to my fingers and wrists.

With every action I cemented my resolve. I knew what I wanted and in true diva fashion, I wanted it now. However, I realized my limitations. No matter how much money Mrs. Burke put on my debit card, that money was for my wardrobe and things to promote the way I look for the Society, not for hormones, or for surgeries. I had to put my mind to work to figure out a way to earn a lot of money. My future was set. I was going to become the girl I was meant to be, and that was that.

Kelsey was coming out of her room as I was exiting mine. She took one look at me and stopped.

“Where are you off to now? More shopping?”

I shook my head. “No, although I’ll need some new casual clothes and I’m thinking of getting highlights in my hair tomorrow.”

She crossed her arms underneath her breasts. “Then why are you all dressed up?”

I looked down at myself. “I’m not. A girl should always look her best, Kelsey. You never know when you’re going to be the center of attention, and frankly I love to look my best.”

All this was said as I eyed her ratty short shorts, orange camisole with an old pizza sauce stain between her breasts, and her bare feet. With a smile denoting pity, I turned and headed to the kitchen for a cup of tea.

Daddy was back from whatever it was he was doing all morning and watching college football on TV. I heard him crush his beer can and toss it into the little trashcan he had beside his recliner, so I stopped and turned.

“Do you need another beer, Daddy?”

He glanced over at me and took in the outfit and heels. “Uh…”

“I can get it for you. You just relax and watch your game. Would you like a sandwich too?”

His mouth closed and then opened again with a look of shoe-droppage in the near future. “Sure.”

I smiled brightly at him and turned to the kitchen. Mom was doing something at the kitchen table that involved a map, a pencil, and her laptop. I didn’t bother to look more interested.

“Didn’t you just eat a couple of hours ago, Kayla?”

I nodded as I pulled out a sub roll and set it in the toaster over. “This is for Daddy.”

Her eyebrows rose and lips parted. “Let me get this right, just for clarification’s sake. You’re in a nice dress and heels, in the kitchen, making a sandwich for your father.”

“Don’t forget the beer too. He’s busy watching the game.”

“Kayla,” she said with a bit of warning in her voice. “Please don’t get your father into habits that he’s going to expect in the future. You’ve just fulfilled a very bad stereotype for women.”

A giggle escaped my mouth as I gathered the ingredients needed. “He didn’t yell, ‘woman, get me a sammich and a beer.’ I asked him if he wanted one.

“Just as long as you’re the one that did it.”

“I was. Don’t worry.” When the bread was toasted, I brought up the subject that Brandon said they were talking about the previous day. “Mom? When Brandon was here he mentioned that you were thinking about me seeing a psychiatrist?”

I saw her body stiffen slightly for an oncoming argument. “Yes.”

“I think it’s a good idea.”

She relaxed, but still kept an air of wariness. “You do?”

Spreading the mayo on the bread I nodded. “I want to look into gender reassignment and see if I’m a good candidate.”

“Honey, that’s a big step.”

“I know, but it’s what I want. You can’t argue that Kevin was a better person than I am.”

Mom closed her laptop and sat down facing me. “That’s not the point. Kevin was… you were a good son and you’re a good daughter. This would be a major life change for you.”

“Not really. The only thing that would change would be things about my body. I’m already living my life as a normal college girl. It’s called a life test or something like that. It’s supposed to be one of the final steps. I’ve done things out of order, officially, but the results are the same. I don’t plan on going back to being a boy. Kayla is here to stay.”

She looked like she wanted to argue the point; but seriously, even she had to realize I was right.

“Anyway,” I said. “I just wanted to give you a heads up so you’ll be prepared. This is something that I want.”

“Does this have something to do with Brandon? Is he forcing…”

I spun on her, my eyes widening. “No. He’s asked about my plans, but that’s all. You really need to get this idea out of your head that he’s some sort of sex maniac.”

She grabbed her forehead with one hand and rubbed at it. “Kayla, boys don’t change their personalities overnight.”

“I know that. But there’s something you need to know too. Hold on a second and let me take this out to Daddy.”

Cutting the large sandwich in half, I set it on a plate and added some chips to the side. Grabbing a beer from the refrigerator, I walked out to the living room and handed all the goodies over.

“Thanks honey.”

“You’re welcome, Daddy.”

He was waiting for the bad news that would usually accompany something like this, but I just smiled at him and went back to the kitchen and closed the door behind me, leaving him to his game.

I poured my tea that had finished heating and went to sit at the table cattycorner to my mother. Crossing my legs, I made sure my posture was good and I looked at her.

“Mom, Brandon likes sex.” I watched her reaction and she was putting on a good front. “I understand that. However, from the first time I met him, he’s always treated me with respect because I demand it from others around me. Kelsey doesn’t. They were sex partners and that was it. They didn’t have some deeper meaning to their relationship and they never hid that fact.”

I could see she really didn’t understand.

“If sex ever happens between Brandon and myself, it will be because we want to deepen our relationship and show affection to one another beyond the simple ways. I don’t even know if he’s the one, yet, so that isn’t going to be any time soon, believe me.”

She was still confused. “Honey, since when are you gay? You showing up with Brandon was the first I’ve heard of it.”

“I’m not gay, Mom. I’m a girl now and I like boys. That makes me heterosexual. I just don’t have all the parts that will make that a reality.”

The concept seemed to be hard for her to comprehend. “Do you still like girls?”

I looked down at my tea and nodded. “Between you and me, I’m bisexual, I think. But I don’t plan on exploring that side of me. The Society has a problem with that lifestyle and besides I’m a fan of monogamy. If I’m with Brandon then that precludes me from being with anyone else of either gender.”

“Oh, honey…” Mom had that expression on her face like I didn’t have a clue what I was getting into, but I’d find out soon enough. “I hope things work out the way you want.”

~O~

Monday came and while Dad said psychiatrists were covered under his insurance, he had to talk to the provider to see if anything else was. Considering the time of year, none of the doctors that were in the network were taking new patients until January and by that time I’d be back at school, so I spent a lot of time looking around online for a decent doctor in that area.

Kelsey stayed away from me for most of the holiday, Christmas came and I celebrated in my best green and red finery, with big hair and a cute Santa’s helper hat. Brandon even came by and we exchanged simple gifts.

I was still confused about the whole girlfriend/boyfriend dynamic since he still hadn’t asked me yet, but I didn’t want to spoil any time we spent together.

When he asked me what I was doing for New Year’s Eve, I smiled. “That’s my birthday; the big one-eight.”

“Oh…” he said. “My parents are hosting a party and I was going to ask you if you wanted to come to it. But I guess…”

My heart fluttered slightly. “You want me to meet your parents?”

Brandon looked at me strangely. “Well, yeah, of course. I mean, you’re my girlfriend and all.”

I let my eyebrows lift in amused surprise. “When did that happen?”

“What… what do…?” He made a disgusted sound. “I can’t believe I never asked you.” Taking my hand he moved a lot closer to me and kissed it. “Kayla, can you forgive a stupid man and accept his offer of boyfriendship?”

I narrowed my eyes with humor. “Is that an actual word?”

“It is today.”

“Okay, but only if you kiss me right now.”

His face turned all serious. “Really? Conditions?”

I nodded. “Yep. I can’t accept if you don’t kiss me. And it has to be a long meaningful kiss with lips, tongue, and everything.”

Closing the distance to what had to be a couple of millimeters. I felt his warm breath on my face and it smelled inviting. “Well, okay. If I have to.”

“You have…” I didn’t get to complete the sentence because his hands went up cradle my face and his lips connected with mine.

I trembled under his touch, feeling so hopelessly lost in the moment that I couldn’t remember everything we did after he backed away. The only thing that lingered was the feeling of happiness.

~O~

“Oh gosh, I should have went with the Nightline dress. This shows too much skin.”

My mother was apparently a saint in a previous life for having to put up with me. “It’s perfectly fine for a formal event, Kayla. Now relax or you’re never going to be ready for your date.”

One of my birthday presents was the full treatment at my mother’s salon. I’ve been waxed, shaped, painted, colored, cut, shaped again, and made up perfectly. The only thing that was waiting for me was the Dashing Diva Asymmetrical Glitter Dress in royal blue, my Allure Mirage four inch sandals with ruffles of all things, and all the amenities. It shouldn’t have taken me fifteen minutes to put everything on, but I was so nervous about meeting Brandon’s parents that I was making a production out of everything.

The new body shaper I was wearing was amazingly tight in the waist, giving me better curves than nature intended for a girl who was born in the body of a boy. For that I was grateful. Come January, I was already prepared to bring the corset back in style once again. I was going to have an hourglass figure if it killed me. For the party I had to settle with something close to what I wanted.

Forty-five minutes later and the doorbell was ringing as Mom was putting the final touches to my hair. I got the highlights I wanted and new extensions to lengthen it down to the upper part of my lower back. Having hair that long felt so incredible and I couldn’t wait until it was my natural hair, but that may take a few years.

“How do I look?” I said with fear in my voice. Mom frowned slightly and I almost panicked. “What? What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think I can let you out looking like that. You wouldn’t even have to try to seduce him. He’d just follow you around like a little puppy begging for scraps.”

“Mooom!”

She sighed. “I’ll go get him ready, and I want pictures, so don’t come out for a couple of minutes.”

I must have checked everything a dozen times over to make sure I was as perfect as I could be before I opened my bedroom door and exited down the hall. Brandon was posing for my mother when he saw me. The most divine smile rose on his lips and from where I was standing I could see his eyes glaze over.

“Kayla…”

All the trouble that I went through, all the stress I suffered was for naught because of that look in his eyes. As gracefully as I could, I strode over to him and offered my cheek to him for a welcoming kiss. Mom snapped a dozen or more pictures and we were finally able to escape.

Brandon’s truck was missing. Instead he told me that he’d borrowed his father’s BMW so I wouldn’t have to climb in and out. Regretfully it was stocked with separate seats so I couldn’t sit next to him.

“You look unbelievable tonight” he said.

“Thanks. You don’t think it’s too much?”

“You’re perfect.”

I could have purred.

Thirty minutes later we were driving up to his parent’s house, which would better be described as a small mansion. He insisted that I wait until he was able to get around the car to let me out. Turning to the side, I unfolded my legs, which looked much longer with the heels and the shortness of the dress. Again I’d outdone myself with how short I’d go. The majority of party dresses I’d tried on were minis, while this one wasn’t exactly that short, it was close.

As I took his hand I caught a glimpse of his slacks tenting more than normal and that shot a jolt of pride through me. I wasn’t surprised that I wanted Brandon to want me. I would suppose most girls desire that feeling.

“You have a beautiful house,” I said.

“Thanks.”

When we made it inside, I looked around. There was a catering crew there getting everything ready. “Where are your parents?”

He shrugged. “Out someplace getting ready I guess. Mom said they’d be back by seven.”

It was only six. “I guess you’ll have to find some way to entertain me until then.”

I had my makeup with me because I knew there would be some serious kissing involved somewhere along the line. I wasn’t wrong.

Brandon’s room was on the second floor at the end of the hall and that’s where we spent the next thirty minutes getting some practice in for the big event that night. My lips felt swollen, but satisfied at his attention and he had something that was swollen as well and it was pressing against my abdomen.

Getting into the spirit of things and having to know if certain fantasies matched reality, I let my hand drift lower until I was in contact with his length through his slacks.

“Mmmmm,” he nearly groaned when I touched him. Pulling away from my lips he whispered harshly. “Don’t do that unless you can finish, baby. You’re driving me crazy.”

My hand snapped back when I realized exactly how big Brandon was and that Kelsey wasn’t lying about that aspect during her attempts to scare me.

He froze for a second and I was almost horrified about how far I’d taken things. I may have thought of myself as a girl, but there was no way I was ready for something like that.

“Brandon… I’m… I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

His face was red and I could see a moderate amount of anguish lounging about, making me feel even more guilty for teasing him to that point. Looking down at the bulge, I made a firm decision to escape at the first opportunity.

Brandon groaned, but held his hand up. “It’s okay. I made this decision going into this relationship. Just… just give me a few minutes.”

I winced and grabbed my purse. “I’ll go fix my face.”

He didn’t say anything to that and I hastily retreated to the bathroom.

~O~

“So you’re the young lady that has my Brandon in such a tizzy,” his mom said.

“Mooom,” my boyfriend groaned.

I squeezed his upper arm. “My mom does the same thing, honey. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

She grinned at me. “Well it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Kayla. Sweetheart, have you seen your brother around?”

Brandon shook his head. “He supposed to be here at eight with Nikky.”

She gave him a grin back and then looked at me. “Get Kayla a drink, sweetheart. If I know your manners, she’s probably dying of thirst by now.”

Once we had sodas in hand, Brandon was perusing the buffet for something to snack on and we were alone, for the most part.

“I’m really sorry about earlier.”

He looked up at me and shook it off. “Don’t worry about it. The good things are worth waiting for. It was just a little abrupt ending like that.”

The guilt on my side of things was almost overwhelming and I so understood how much pressure girls were under to just give in and have sex. What made it worse was that I knew how things were from the guy’s side as well. They just didn’t get why it was such a big deal; sex was sex. It was seriously fun and it made you feel good. So why hold back?

“Still,” I said. “I know better. I shouldn’t have even let us get to that place. Here I am trying to talk other girls into being paragons of virtue and the next thing you know, I’m feeling up my boyfriend.”

I could see he was mildly amused by the smile on his face and the restrained chuckle. “It’s good to know you’re not perfect.”

Okay, that was seriously sweet of him. “I’m way far away from perfect, Brandon.”

He shook his head and leaned in to kiss my cheek. “Not so far.”

~O~

I got to meet his father, who seemed to enjoy my dress almost as much as his son did. As the guests arrived I was introduced as Brandon’s girlfriend which I savored every moment of. A couple of his old high school girlfriends attended with their parents. I didn’t receive any scowls from them, but they were extremely interested in how attentive Brandon was being toward me.

The second time he left to get me a drink and some appetizers, one of them was right there, Amanda I think her name was.

“He’s smitten; that’s for sure.”

I turned to her. “Pardon me?”

“Brandon. I’ve seen him with many girls over the years — we grew up together. Usually it’s his girlfriend that hovers over him and now it’s the other way around for once. What’s your secret?”

With a smile I answered. “I’m a Society girl. We have standards about the way we behave, dress, and act. Brandon likes it. In fact a lot of guys at school like it.”

Her eye thinned as she looked like she was trying to recall something. “I know you don’t mean high society. Is this a club or something?”

I nodded. “I belong to the Society to Promote Feminine Values. There’s an offshoot club at school that a few girls and I started.”

“Feminine values? This isn’t some sort of women’s lib thing from the seventies is it?”

A giggle escaped my lips. “Not quite. While we are all for women being afforded the same rights as men, we promote remaining a lady throughout. No bra burning for us. Ever since I joined, my life has been nothing but satisfying.”

She hooked her arm through mine and steered me toward a quieter area of the room. “Tell me more.”

My boyfriend dropped off my drink and a small plate of goodies, but seeing I was talking Society stuff, he excused himself to mix with some of his friends from high school.

Amanda’s eye lit up. “How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

With her glass in her grasp, she pointed a finger at Brandon. “He didn’t make a face or anything when he heard what we were talking about. That isn’t the Brandon I know. Pardon me, but that boy is a horndog, or at least he used to be when I knew him.”

“He’s changed. I encourage more respect from the men I date. He understands this, and he also knows that the Society is very important to me.”

Her eyes widened as she looked back and forth between us. “Okay, seriously, tell me more.”

~O~

On the way home, even though I was seated further away than normal, Brandon’s hand was firmly entrenched on my bare thigh and I couldn’t be more content with my life. Well, I probably could be, but for the moment it was perfect.

“I’m leaving for school early so I can make sure the house is set up the way I want it,” I said.

“That’s right. New digs and you’re the house mother or something like that?”

“First Lady,” I commented with some amount of dread at my title. “And yeah, it pretty much amounts to being a house mother.”

He grinned and squeezed my thigh. “Do I get an official tour?”

“Of course. Come by any time before the girls get there and you can see everything. Afterward though, you’ll have to follow the rules just like every other boy.”

“Like what?”

“Males only get access to the house at certain times and only in a single room up front. No guys anywhere else in the house.”

He faked choking. “I guess you’ll have to come outside then.”

“I have to set an example, Brandon. There’s a lot more people watching me than you think.”

I felt the car slow a little as he eased up off the accelerator. “Watching you?”

I nodded. “When I went in for my scholarship eval, I found out there were fifteen separate reports on people observing me. Of course since I always live up to the SPFV standards they had nothing but good things to say, but still, it’s kind of creepy that someone might be watching.”

He considered that for a few moments. “Well, I still have my place so you can visit there.”

With a smile, I agreed.

“Are you sure this is all worth it, Kayla? The spying on you I mean.”

“Big time. I wouldn’t be in college if it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have found out about myself, and most of all I wouldn’t have met you.”

“Good point.”

He brushed his hand up and down my leg coming to a stop very close to a sensitive place. For once, I didn’t take his hand away, enjoying the feeling of being his girl.

We pulled into my subdivision and eventually into my driveway where he killed the engine and we sat for a moment.

“I had a great time today,” I said. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“It was my pleasure.”

Before I could get any more ideas about a repeat makeout performance in the front of his car, I reached for the door handle.

“Oh, wait. Let me get that.”

In a few seconds Brandon was around the side and assisting me out of the car. “You look so beautiful tonight, Kayla.”

My face flushed at the compliment as he walked me up to the front door and gave me a very nice kiss goodnight.

“Happy birthday,” he whispered and came in for a goodnight kiss which I more than welcomed.

When I felt things starting to heat up, I slowed down and gently broke away with a smile on my face.

“Night, Brandon,” I said as I gave him a finger wave.

I watched him walk back to his car before I let myself inside. By touching him in an inappropriate spot, I’d made a decision to escalate our relationship that night. It was probably a seriously bad idea, but that’s what I get for putting myself in that position to begin with. I didn’t regret what we did, don’t misunderstand me. I just wished I had better restraint and saved it for a time when we didn’t have to hide it.

Being a girl was a lot more challenging than I’d come to believe.

TBC...

Author's Note: Here's something that I've been working on for the last few months, on and off. I've got a few chapters finished, but it's more of a serial than a story that will take a while to complete. Photo Credit: Amye E.

Episode Four

Spring semester didn’t resume until January seventeenth. I was there on the ninth, two Mondays before, making sure everything was in its place and to make any last minute additions. I met with the contractor and Mrs. Burke’s personal assistant to do a walkthrough.

The house was fairly large, being an old style plantation home with twelve rooms for students upstairs. That meant that it could house up to twenty-four students doubled up. My room was downstairs near the front in what used to be an entertainment room of some sort. I also had a small office next door for official business.

My bedroom was almost twice the size of the one at the apartment and I nearly teared up at the décor. Everything was so fancy and old style turn of the twentieth century antiques. I had a canopy bed, a large dresser with an equally large mirror on the back, a beautiful armoire, a large cedar chest at the end of the bed full of quilts and bed linens, a walk in closet, and my own bathroom with an old fashion claw-footed tub.

Mrs. Burke apparently spared no expense to make me comfortable, all for doing something that I’d be happy to do in the first place, being feminine and encouraging it in others.

She was extremely happy to find out about my talk with Amanda, Brandon’s friend growing up. After talking to me at the party, she wound up calling me for Mrs. Burke’s number so she could get her permission use my idea at her college. She was immediately referred back to me as the Society Club was all my idea, apparently. We must have talked for hours while I told her how everything came to life and how we went about gathering members. At the end, I hoped she succeeded, if for no other reason than to take a little responsibility off of my shoulders.

School had to take the number one position in my list of priorities. Every month since I started, the Society had taken up more and more of my time, but to me, it was a very important endeavor. It made me who I was. Scheduling had been very important and I had to stick to it considering it took me almost an entire day to figure out how to balance my life.

For the rest of the week, I made some purchases for all sixteen girls that would be joining me at Society House. It was nothing major, but it was personal. A large artificial flower arrangement in each room with a personal note attached. I knew every girl somewhat and related something about their lives into each message. I knew nothing about flower arranging, but with the assistance of one of the people at the shop where I made my purchases, I was able to put together some nice bouquets.

Friday came, and with it I knew my boyfriend would be moving back into his apartment and visiting me. I took special care in looking as attractive an inviting as I could with a red long sleeve sheath dress that hugged my manufactured curves. My pumps were black, sleek, and had five inch heels which were the highest I’d ever dared yet. It would almost make me eye level with Brandon and they stretched out my calves and thighs to maximize my best assets.

Around two o’clock was when he arrived, ringing the bell in the small alcove at the front of the house. From my room to the door, I submerged my conscious into pure unadulterated femininity, making my hips sway just a touch more, putting a not-quite sexy strut into my walk, and a carefree attitude to the sway of my arms. By the time I answered the door I was as good as I could get.

“Well, hello stranger,” I said with a tiny bit of breath added to my voice.

Brandon paused, taking me in. “Every time I see you, you’re more beautiful.”

I smiled with appreciation and kissed him lightly, not wanting to ruin my makeup just yet.

“Welcome to Society House. Would you like a tour?”

“Anywhere you lead, I’ll follow.”

There was a teasing sound to his voice and it was making me want to just pull him into my room and forget the tour. However, I had some teasing of my own to dish out.

We went from room to room, downstairs to show him everything Mrs. Burke wanted included, and he was impressed at how comfortable it all was. Along the way, I would touch him on the shoulder at the arm. At one point I even ran my nails at the nape of his neck which elicited a shiver and make it difficult for my boyfriend to move on to the next area.

“And lastly we have my room.” Turning around I held up a finger. “You have to promise that nobody will know you’ve seen it. Boys aren’t officially allowed in any of the girl’s rooms, but seeing as how the new semester hasn’t started yet, I think it’ll be okay.”

He held up three fingers. “Scouts honor.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You were a scout?”

Brandon nodded. “Eagle Scout.”

I grinned and let my eyes trail down his body to a certain area that was visibly tenting. “Always prepared I see.”

~O~

About an hour later we emerged from my bedroom and I had such a smile on my face that I thought it would be permanently etched there. We’d taken things slow and easy. I gave him plenty of breaks and made sure I didn’t push him past the point of no return like I did at his house on New Years Eve.

He took me out to dinner that night, and we discussed everyday things. It was just so nice to be with him that I wanted to melt into a puddle. Silly, I know, but that was the way he made me feel.

“I almost forgot,” he said at the end of the evening in the alcove of Society House.

His hand went into the pocket of his slacks and he produced his fraternity pin. “Would you do me the honor of wearing my pin?”

I grabbed it and then threw my arms around his neck, giving him more of a kiss than was acceptable in public, but since it was semi-private and a special occasion I deemed it permissible.

My left hand, hidden by our angle to the outside, trailed down to stroke his chest lightly. “I really wish boys were allowed in after dark. I’d thank you properly.”

Brandon’s eyes half closed at my touch. “Maybe tomorrow?” he asked hopefully.

“The girls start arriving in the morning,” I said with a cute pout. “I’ll probably be busy all day. Sunday perhaps?”

“Definitely.”

“I can’t wait,” I breathed into his mouth as I reached up just a touch for a final kiss.

By the time I’d made it to my bathroom to run hot water into the tub, I was a mess. Need coursed through my veins at holding myself back from Brandon during our little tryst on my bed. It was then that I understood why certain girls gave up their virginity before marriage.

Stripping out of my heels and dress, I hung it to the side for the dry cleaners. My panties were straining and slightly damp from my own minor emissions. I only desperately wished that something else was in its place.

Filling a sink up, I poured a little Woolite into the water and submerged my panties so they wouldn’t have a stain later. While I waited for the water in the tub to fill, I used the adhesive remover to dislodge my breast and hip forms. When I was finished, I caught sight of myself in the mirror and pain shot through my heart.

Standing there was an overly effeminate boy wearing makeup. His member was at attention, bald and not overly impressive.

“Why can’t you just go away?”

Turning from the sight, I pinned my hair up and shut off the water before climbing into the perfumed bath, relishing in the feel of it flowing over my sensitive skin. Once I was submerged, hiding all the offending parts, I was able to relax again.

After soaking for a good ten minutes, I used a loofah to exfoliate my skin, especially at my hips and chest. Being covered almost all the time wasn’t really good for it, so I took special pains to make sure it was treated right when I went through this routine ever two weeks. After finishing that I noticed my chest was very red and my nipples overly sensitive.

I had no delusions that I was growing breasts — I wish. The condition was from being hidden away for so long and then treated to a rough scrub afterward. It happened every time I did this. I did notice that the skin seemed a little looser than normal, most likely stretched from wearing breast forms all the time.

Once I was finished with that I used a pouf to scrub down everything else, emptied the bath, rinsed off and applied lotion to my body. It was pretty much my nightly routine.

When I sat down in front of my antique makeup mirror to braid my hair, I frowned. My original intention after my date with Brandon was to go straight inside and masturbate my frustrations away. However, after seeing that so typical boy-like erection all desire went away. I wasn’t sure it was natural, but considering the disgust I felt at seeing it, I accepted that was the reason and tried my best not to question it any longer.

Besides, my first appointment with my psychiatrist was on Tuesday. Maybe I could ask her about it.

The routine I started last week was coming to an end. I donned my evening gown and a warm robe before making the rounds to ensure all the windows and doors were secure before retiring to my bedroom to wash the makeup off my face, moisturize, and crawl into bed for a dream filled sleep.

The next morning, I was up early since it was going to be a busy day. While I wasn’t going to be moving anything for anyone, I was going to be in and out most of the day, with the front door wide open, so I opted for something on the warm side. A tight weave long sleeve cashmere top, and asymmetrical leopard print skirt, some thick snuggly warm tights and low heeled ankle boots — only two inches.

I went from room to room turning on the lights, opening the curtains and making the place as inviting as I could. I wanted Society House to be a place where girls could be girls with a feeling of safety and beauty around them. How better to encourage the lifestyle?

Once that was finished, I made two carafes of coffee and set out a variety of teas, cookies, and sodas for the men that I assumed would be doing the heavy work. They’re much more motivated to do a good job if they were appreciated along the way. While most everything, in terms of furniture was provided for the girls, I knew some of them would bring things that would make their rooms homier. That’s where the men came in. It was also only the first of two times that any male of the species would be allowed upstairs, at the beginning and end of the semester, for moving purposes only.

Downstairs was a different matter, which I’ll go into later.

By the time I’d finished setting up the snacks, I turned on some music that was piped through the entire house, nothing loud or with words even. It wasn’t quite Muzak, but it was close, and also a onetime thing. I wanted the parents to think that we were going to be good little girls. While it wasn’t far from the truth, for the most part, I was betting that same stereo system would be blaring pop music by nightfall as we had some fun.

The first of many trucks and SUVs backed in to the parking area out front and I was at the door before anyone’s knuckles were hurt in the cold weather. Why does everything hurt so much when it’s cold? I can’t even stand knocking on someone’s door.

Avery was the first through the door as we screamed at each other in joy of finally living under the same roof. Even though she was in a sorority she didn’t have to stay in their house like most of the girls chose to do. But Avery was almost my second in command, going out of her way to help however she could. It was only her that loved the Society as much as I did. While the others helped a lot, it was more of a lifestyle choice for them as opposed to a way of life.

They sound the same, but they aren’t even close.

Avery and I love being girls and we go to extreme measures to be as feminine as humanly possible. She was the only other girl that hadn’t worn a pair of jeans since she started. If there was someone that I truly wanted to be my sister in blood, it was her.

I envied her lush black hair that fell just below her shoulder blades and her firm but full body. She was a very curvy girl with round breasts and a heart shaped bottom that I longed to have as my own. There was a time that I would have yearned to be with a girl like her and while I could appreciate her value as a girlfriend, being my best friend was more fulfilling.

It was Hannah that I had a mild crush on. She was more athletic, tall, trim, small-breasted, thin hips, and the prettiest face. The idea that she was the least feminine of my inner group wasn’t lost on me. She embodied the best of the feminine and masculine worlds which drove me crazy sometimes, but what could I do. Brandon was the center of my little love life world and would remain so for a while at least.

“The place looks great!” Avery nearly squealed as she rushed around trying to take everything in at once. “I can’t believe it’s actually happening!”

A guy that I had to assume was her dad walked through the door lugging two suitcases in each hand, looking at his daughter with a raised eyebrow.

“Where do you want these, pumpkin.”

I pointed to the grand staircase in front of him that separated to the left and right near the top. “Up the stairs, first door on the left, sir. Would you like a coffee when you’re through unloading everything?”

He smiled at me. “That would be appreciated. Just black is fine. I’ve got two more loads to run first.”

My eyes went wide at how much Avery had brought with her. I thought I was a clothes hound.

When she turned back up at the front I told her about where her room was. She squeaked and ran upstairs.

A big full-bodied Hummer pulled up next. It wasn’t like those little ones, but more like something that the military carried, except it wasn’t camo colored. A girl dropped out the side that I swear I didn’t recognize. I kept trying to figure out who she was.

She had light brown hair to her shoulders that I could tell was recently colored, and her clothing almost matched mine: skirt, tights, and ankle boots. She looked a little uncomfortable, and nervous as she spoke to an older guy, again probably her father.

When she turned to the house her face lit up a little as she saw me. It wasn’t until she was to the front steps that I finally figure out who she was.

“Carrie?”

Her grin widened and I nearly dropped on the spot. The last time I saw her she was pierced a dozen times in the face, with black hair, dark makeup, and the worst clothes.

“Oh, my gosh! Look at you!”

I rushed up and gave her a welcoming hug.

“Hi, Kayla. Thanks for having me.”

I giggled. “Are you kidding? I’m glad to. You look absolutely fabulous by the way. Excellent taste in wardrobe today I must say.”

She looked at what I was wearing and then down to her outfit before she giggled as well. Her father came up a few moments later along with a guy that looked a few years older than Carrie. It was the younger one that was lugging a large traveling trunk.

“Carrie’s room is at the top of the stairs to the right, second door on the right.”

He gave me a nod and went by as Carrie’s father stopped in front of me.

“You’re Kayla?”

I nodded. “Yes sir, Mr. Williams. Would you care for a cup of coffee, we have tea or sodas also if you’re interested.”

It looked like I’d cut him off before a practiced speech or something since his mouth snapped closed. “Coffee would be good, thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure sir, right this way.”

Carrie was right by my side as we entered and went over to the table where I had everything set up. We passed Avery’s father on the way out for round two as I heard another squeak from upstairs. Apparently Avery loved the place.

I pumped a cup of coffee out and Mr. Williams took it black as well. What is it with guys and their aversion to sugar with their coffee?

“Thank you, Kayla. Carrie, why don’t you go see your room while I speak to your friend.”

She nodded and headed upstairs. When she was out of sight, Mr. Williams looked at me. “You’re not what I expected, but then again I don’t know what else you would have looked like. Thank you for giving me back my little girl.”

I shook my head with a clueless look on my face. “Honestly, Mr. Williams. I don’t know what I said or did that would have that much of a change on her. We just talked.”

He sipped at the coffee and looked at it for a moment. “Regardless, she credits you and I am in your debt.”

Remembering the check he gave to Mrs. Burke, I had to disagree. “Your donation was thanks enough. It’s already made a big difference in how we’re doing things here at Society House.”

He looked around, obviously pleased with how everything looked. “I think this will be a much better environment for her and you’ll be a good role model. Can I count on you?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Excellent.” When he set his cup and saucer aside, he retrieved a business card and handed it to me. “If you need anything for this place, you call me. My private number is on there. I mean it… anything. Though it looks as if you’re off to a good start.”

He nodded once to me and returned to the front of his car while Carrie’s brother retuned for another load.

“I hope he didn’t say anything to make you mad?”

Looking over my shoulder, I saw Carrie at the foot of the stairs. Waving her over, I slipped my hand around her waist and pulled her close for a little hug.

“He’s just happy for you and offered his help if we needed anything.”

“Good. I’m glad he’s doing something with his money besides…” She trailed off and I didn’t press the matter, but felt that she wanted more privacy before saying anything more.

“After dinner tonight, come to my room if you want to talk.”

She looked up at me. Seeing as she was just a little over five feet in height it was almost like she was my little sister. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

With another squeeze I shooed her off. “Go on. Have some fun. School starts soon enough.”

~O~

So it went. I met everyone and their fathers or brothers that brought them to Society House. By late in the afternoon, I was bushed, but still had duties to perform.

Mrs. Burke allowed a few private parties that were catered, mostly for holidays and the start of school. Once everyone was served and found a seat, I pulled out a checklist of topics to cover.

“As all of you know me, I’ll dispense with the introductions.”

“Go Kayla!” Avery yelled from the back.

“Or not,” I said. “You’ve all had a chance to look over the SPFV and Society charter and signed off on it, but I think a few items bear repeating just to cement it into your mind. You wouldn’t be here unless you haven’t embraced what we all are at our core, feminine women. So there aren’t going to be demerits, or warnings, or points, or whatever other award and debits system you can think of. We’re going to treat each other as we would a treasured sister.”

I looked out amongst the girls and saw a few smiles at the thought.

“That means if you notice something out of place, please be polite and point it out constructively. If you have any doubts about clothes, accessories, behavior, questions about handling a situation, anything at all regarding femininity you may ask me or Avery, as she is just as knowledgeable as I am. In turn, when new girls arrive, you can be a role model for them.”

“Where did you get that skirt,” Kimberly asked. “Because, wow.”

I smiled. “Ann Taylor, and the boots from Nine West.”

“Now, as to the house rules…”

~O~

I fielded a couple dozen questions after that and then had a chance to eat while the girls got to know one another. Someone, probably Avery switched the music to pop, turned it up, and there was a little dancing involved until the night started winding down.

After cleaning up we each went our separate ways. I made sure everything was locked up tight and went to my room. An hour later a soft knock sounded. When I opened my door, Carrie was standing there, freshly showered, in a robe and holding a punked-out pink and black teddy bear. I smiled at the picture and let her in.

“Oh wow, your room rocks.”

I shrugged. “The perks of being First Lady. Come on, we can set up on the bed.”

After turning off all the lights except for the ones on either side of the bed, I joined her on top of the covers. Carrie’s face was flushing, I assumed from a mild case of embarrassment. She picked at the teddy for a few moments and looked like she wanted to talk, but didn’t know where to start.

“Carrie?” When she looked up at me, I just smiled softly. “We can just hang out if you want. You don’t have to say a word.”

I watched as her eyes glassed. “Why are you so nice to me?”

It was a strange question. “Why wouldn’t I be? You’re just as human as I am. We all have feelings.”

“Did you know who my dad is… when we met, I mean.”

More strange questions. “Honey, I still don’t know who your dad is. I get the feeling he’s rich and he cares for you, but beyond that…”

I watched as two tears made their way down her face. “He’s Dominic Williams of Williams Defense.”

I still didn’t have a clue.

“Major league defense contractors for the DOD.”

“Okay,” I said. Politics and world events were never my strong suit.

“You really don’t know?”

I shook my head.

She smiled and wiped at her face. “Good. He thought you might, but didn’t know for sure. My brother thinks you know exactly who my family is and was making friends with me for…”

Reaching over I took her hand, which was wringing the arm of her bear. “Honey, for seventeen years, I lived in my little self-absorbed slacker world. I didn’t care about anything other than the next new video game and whether or not my mom had bought enough Mountain Dew to last me the week. Until I got involved in the Society and came to college, I didn’t know what I was missing.”

I shrugged and caressed her hand. “It sounds a little cultish, but it’s just had that big of a change in me. I swear you wouldn’t recognize who I was a year ago and the person I’ve become today. They’re two totally different people. So, you’ll have to take my word about not knowing anything about you or your family until we met last semester. Even then I just knew what you told me.”

“You were a gamer-chick?”

I grinned and leaned back. “Oh yeah. Xbox was my life.”

“I really can’t picture you sitting in front of a TV with a controller in your hands.”

Waving my fingers up, I tilted my head to the side. “That was before I grew my nails out. I’d hate to see what I’d do with the latest Halo or Dragon Age. Look…” I showed her my thumbs. “You can barely see the calluses from my years of depravity. My manicurist was horrified when I first went in to get them done.”

Carrie giggled as she looked real close. “Yep, you were a gamer-chick.”

She looked a little relieved at my past misdeeds. “My thing was piercings, obviously.”

Looking for the telltale marks, I couldn’t find a single one. She must have used really good concealer.

“I got them to piss off… oh sorry. I know we’re not supposed to cuss. It still slips through though,” she confessed.

“It’ll take a while. I still do it in my head occasionally. As long as you notice it and make an effort to stop you’re doing good.”

She nodded and I thought she was really cute when she blushed. “Anyway, I got them to… um, tick off my dad. He’s never home and… ugh, I’m a cliché. Poor little rich girl with daddy issues.”

“You’re human, Carrie. You’re not a cliché. Did it work? Did you get his attention?”

She shrugged. “Mostly negative. He’d throw money at me thinking that was what I wanted. So I used it to go out and do everything that I knew he hated. Piercings, tattoos, PVC and leather clothes, bad boyfriends, a venereal disease, alcohol, another venereal disease, and the list goes on. Luckily there was nothing fatal or anything a shot of penicillin couldn’t cure.”

Carrie blinked and then looked up at me, almost terrified at what she just said. I held up my hands. “That was the past. I don’t care about the past, Carrie. Are you still drinking and having sex?”

She shook her head. “No… I… when I left school, I went home and asked Dad to put me into detox. I took all my piercings out of my face and other places and stayed there all last semester, saw a shrink, did annoying group therapy, the whole bit. Then I came out at the beginning of December and told dad about you and the Society and that I wanted to join.”

After a sad giggle and another wipe at the tears on her face she continued.

“He took a vacation for the first time in five years and we did a little bit of everything together… and the rest is… well, what it is.”

Even my eyes were starting to well up at her confession. “Can you tell me what it is that I did?” I asked. “So maybe I could bottle it up and pass it around?”

Carrie laughed out loud and sniffed as I reached for some tissue at the bedside. After she blew her nose she shook her head. “I don’t know what it was. I just saw you and how well put together you were. You were so sure of yourself, confident. You believed in something and wanted to share it without anything for yourself. That was it.”

After a moment she added something else. “I wanted your life. I wanted to be you right then. My psychiatrist says that you were a catalyst or whatever of my desires for my life, that I should strive to find out who I really am and be me.”

I nodded. “Sounds like good advice.”

“I’m trying, but either way, I’m using you as a role model, if you don’t mind that is.”

My throat closed up at the lump that was forming there. “I can think of better people that…”

“I can’t.”

The thought that someone out there in the world wanted to be like me was almost ridiculous. If Carrie knew the true meaning about what she was saying I seriously doubted that she’d want to be me anymore.

“You’re uncomfortable,” she said. “I’m making you uncomfortable. I don’t want to do that.”

“I’m just a girl, Carrie.”

“I won’t be weird about it. I promise not to stalk you or anything. I just want to be confident. I want to know what it’s like to be in charge of my life for once.”

My brows furrowed. “What can I do to help?”

She clammed up at that. I was betting she thought I wasn’t going to agree. “Um… can you go shopping with me? Or maybe come upstairs and look though my stuff. My mom bought all of it for me and I don’t know if it’s really me.”

I smiled. “I like your style so far, but you’re right. You need your own. Sure. I’d be more than happy to help you in that way. It’ll have to be next weekend though. I’ve got a pretty busy week planned with school and stuff.”

Carrie bounced on the bed and lunged at me, grabbing me in the tightest hug. “Thank you, Kayla. Thank you so much. I told Dad that you’d do it. I knew it. You’re just a good person.”

Somehow I thought I’d fallen into someone’s well planned scheme. When she pulled back, she reached into her robe and pulled out a small manila envelope and held it out to me.

“He said to give this to you if you agreed.”

I licked my lips, kind of nervously and tore open the top. Inside was a smaller envelope with something hard inside and a letter addressed to me.

Kayla —

If you have possession of this message then you’ve agreed to help my daughter to discover herself. One of the requests from Carrie was that I not “throw money at her” anymore. In lieu of that there is nobody nearby to tend to her needs. Enclosed is a credit card issued under your name to fulfill her needs. Her mother has seen to it she has the basics to survive a couple of weeks. I’ll leave it to you and my daughter to decide anything extra that is needed.

This very important service you are providing is not without compensation for your time. I will return to retrieve my daughter for Spring Break at the end of March. We will discuss what your service is worth at that time.

You have my thanks again.

Regards-

Domenic Williams.

I smirked and then looked up at Carrie. “I see what you mean about him throwing money around.”

She rolled her eyes. “What’s in the other one?”

That envelope wasn’t sealed. When I opened it, I pulled out a Platinum American Express card. Of course. And there it was, my name on the front. It was something I didn’t think I’d ever see, considering my family’s income level.

“I’m supposed to use this for whatever we need to buy for you.”

“Oh… cool.”

That was it? Cool? I felt like I was her surrogate parent or something. Handing the card over, Carrie’s eyes widened and she held up her hands to ward it off.

“That’s yours.”

“Carrie, I can’t. It’s not mine, not really.”

She shook her head. “If I have it, then I’ll use it. That’s why Daddy gave it to you and put it in your name.”

At my less than convinced look, she clarified.

“If you want to see me looking like I did last semester…”

Pressing my lips together, my hand dropped and I sighed. “Okay, but we only use it for your wardrobe and then I send it back to him, or cut it up or something.”

“Why don’t you just give it back to him on Spring Break when he comes?”

My attention drifted to the bathroom while I remembered the sight of the feminine boy looking back at me in the mirror. “It’s a long story, but I’d be just as tempted to use it as you are.”

Carrie had a hopeful look on her face that let me know she was interested in hearing my woeful tale.

“Suffice to say, I’m not rich and I have need for a large amount of money.” Listening to what I just said, I amended the statement. “And I’m not going to accept charity or take any for helping one of my sisters in a way that I’d want to be helped.”

“How large are we talking about?”

I smiled and set the card and letter aside. “I’m not going to say, Carrie. It’s a concerning a very private and personal issue…”

Her shoulders dropped and I watched as she visibly deflated. “And you barely know me. I understand.”

“It’s not that. Even Avery doesn’t know and she’s pretty much my best friend.”

We were quiet for a few moments before she looked back up at me. “My psychiatrist says that we’re supposed to share our problems to make it easier on ourselves. Can you at least talk to someone about it?”

Reaching out I touched the back of her hand, patting it. “My boyfriend knows and my family knows.”

“Good.”

~O~

Sunday morning, I woke up and saw the plastic card laying on my nightstand, taunting me. Before I was tempted, I grabbed it and stowed it in my small jewelry box, underneath the removable bottom, well out of sight and hopefully out of mind soon enough.

At breakfast, the girls started trickling in, sifting through all the microwavable and less than healthy things that their residency payment provided for them. The Society only required two-thirds of the payment as the college did, for a much better living area. It was incentive to live the way we encouraged. That money went to snack foods, toward utilities and upkeep of the house. You’d be surprised how much it costs to take care of what was basically a small mansion. It wasn’t cheap.

When the majority of them were awake and semi-coherent I was on my second cup of coffee and finishing up my fruit salad.

Sandy, one of the girls that wasn’t part of my inner circle, got my attention by sitting next to me.

“Hey Kayla? There was a calendar on the back of my door that said something about makeovers today?”

A few heads popped up in curiosity and I grinned. “Ten o’clock, if you’re interested. Some of the girls here aren’t really all that experienced with what it takes to look your best. I have some professionals coming in to show you how to tweak things.”

“Seriously?” she said?

I nodded. “It won’t cost you a dime and you get a manicure, a pedicure, a personal consultation with a makeup specialist, free samples, and a gift basket courtesy of Mrs. Burke, the founder of the SPFV. Next Sunday I’m bringing in hair stylists.”

Avery leaned over from behind me and kissed my cheek. “Isn’t she the best?”

Carrie, a few seats down on my left, looked up at me, smiled, and then ducked her head afterward.

Kimberly, another new recruit, looked stunned. “They’re coming here and teaching us? That’s got to be expensive.”

With a resigned nod, I stood and picked up my empty bowl. “We had a very nice donation that Mrs. Burke passed on to me from a thankful benefactor. That’s what makes it possible. Anything I can do to make you feel less stressful about experimenting on your appearance, I’ll do it.”

It was a tough job for some of them who were used to just coasting by like my sister. Some of their ideas of dressing up consisted of adding blue eye shadow to their regime and that was it. Plus we had a few — how can I say this without sounding like jerk — less than beautiful members. The Society wasn’t some eights or better on a scale of ten on the beauty scale. I didn’t discriminate, but some girls were definitely going to need more work than others.

“Just to warn you, I informed the consultants that they needed to be brutally honest, but constructive about what each of you might need. Trust me; everyone has something that they’re horrified about. If it makes you feel any better about the situation, I had a facial hair problem that had to be dealt with.”

A Hispanic girl, Anna, who had a light mustache problem, snapped her eyes at me. “Really?”

I nodded. “I was so embarrassed when it was pointed out, but they showed me how to deal with it and I’m very happy they did.”

~O~

The makeovers were the biggest hit. It’s one thing to go to the salon and partake of their services there, but to have them do it in the comfort of your own home was another thing altogether. It was much more relaxed and they took their time with each person without the distractions of having to move their customer from one area to another because other customers were waiting.

Once we were finished, I headed over to my sister’s apartment to return a pair of earrings that I’d managed not to give back. I didn’t want her coming to me and claiming that I stole them, which given her attitude over the last school year, was a distinct possibility. The trouble was, I had to walk.

It’s all part of college life. Even if the students were to bring their own cars, there was limited parking space unless you knew the right people and were able to acquire the proper parking permits. Plus, I wasn’t exactly rolling in money. Everything I had was dedicated to a specific purpose, and my spending money was limited to about forty dollars a week.

When I finally got there, I noticed Daddy’s SUV out front and took advantage of the situation. I waited by the back.

“Kayla,” he said in mild surprise when he rounded the vehicle and saw me sitting on the back.

“Hey, Daddy.” I gave him a hug and then handed off the earrings. “Would you mind giving these to Kelsey and tell her I forgot to return them?”

He looked down at me, mildly disappointed. “You really need to make up with your sister. It’s not good for family to be at odds.”

With a shrug I looked back that the open door. “When she apologizes for being a bi… rude to me for virtually all of last semester then I’ll forgive her. I’m tired of being the only one that is nice all the time. I’m not letting anyone walk all over me anymore.”

Daddy sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“It’s not your job anymore. She’s an adult. Just… just give her the earrings, please. I have to go. I’m meeting Brandon.”

Leaning in he kissed my cheek. “Have a good semester, honey.”

“Thanks, Daddy. Bye.”

Skirting around several cars, I cut between one of the alleyways between buildings and climbed to the second floor before knocking on the door to my boyfriend’s apartment.

Austin opened it up and gave me the once over. “He’s not here. Something came up with his family.”

I frowned. “Are they okay?”

He shrugged. “It’s something to do with his brother and his boyfriend. I don’t know. You want to come in?”

With a shake of my head I declined. “Would you mind just telling him I came by?”

“No problem.”

With an absentminded nod, I turned around and headed for the stairs.

“Hey, Kayla,” said Austin.

Looking over my shoulder, I stopped.

“I was gonna order a pizza… if you’re not doing anything.”

Truthfully, I needed a break. I’d been going non-stop for two weeks trying to make sure everything was perfect for the grand unveiling. That’s why I wanted to meet up with my boyfriend, so we could lounge and maybe partake of a little cuddle. Having pizza sounded perfect, plus, free food!

I smiled. “That sounds great.”

He stood back and swept an arm inside.

“Kick off your heels and grab a seat. I’ll make some drinks.”

Ridding myself of the heels sounded great as well. They were four inch high booties that I’d worn to look nice for Brandon, but the walk over to his apartment wasn’t exactly what they were made for and my toes were feeling a little squished. Once I was free, I wiggled my toes underneath the dark tights I was wearing and figured I’d lounge on Brandon’s chair.

It took me a second to figure out how to sit without flashing my skirt’s contents to the room, and wound up tucking my feet to the side and resting my body to the other.

Austin returned a few minutes later with a soda for us. I sipped on mine and winced at the taste as it burned its way down my throat.

“Is there booze in this?”

He grinned. “Just a little to take away the chill. I promise I won’t get you drunk so I can take advantage of you.”

Setting it aside I shook my head. “I don’t drink, Austin.”

He rolled his eyes and leaned back on the couch. “You really need to relax. You’re far too uptight. There’s just a half a shot of whiskey in there. Chill.”

I frowned at the glass again, but knew the odds of me getting drunk off half a shot of liquor were minute. “Just the one drink and then back to the regular stuff?”

Austin nodded. “See, you’re not a fem-bot.”

“I was never a fem-bot. I just like being a girl.”

~O~

Our conversation moved on to how our winter break went and what we’d been doing for the previous week. By that time the pizza arrived and I was in cheesy heaven for about fifteen minutes.

“So, have you two…” said Austin as he pantomimed a fist pushing forward, the international sign of having sex.

I giggled. “I think you’ve had too much to drink. Good girls don’t kiss and tell.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not telling either and he’s been a serious pain in my butt since he’s arrived.”

“Really?” I sat my crust down on the plate in front of me before finishing off my second drink which was not laced with whiskey.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he had a case of blue balls.”

I winced. “Oh.”

Austin smirked like he’d confirmed his thoughts. “Just some advice, Kayla: this whole Society thing you have going? It’s cute and all. Most hetero men like girls dressing up and being innocent and helpless, but when it comes down to it, they’ll look elsewhere if they’re not getting certain needs met.”

Leaning back against the chair I frowned. “I can’t, even if I wanted to, which I’m still not sure about anyway. I could lose my scholarship, and if it’s a toss-up between sex and an education, sex is going to lose.”

The conversation came to an abrupt halt as I was thinking things through and Austin was polishing off the last of the pizza and watching me with a critical eye.

When he swallowed and wiped his hands with a napkin I prepared myself for the worst.

“You’re saying you haven’t had any since you started all this up?”

I shook my head. “Since before.”

He whistled low. It was either and impressed whistle or a sympathetic one. They’re quite similar in tone. “I thought I had it rough going a few weeks without.”

How in the heck did I get into this conversation with him?

“Then what about the other girls in your club. You know they’re doing other things, right?”

I wasn’t blind or stupid. “Yes… but I… I don’t.” With a sigh I groaned. “I don’t know if I could do that. I haven’t even seen another guy’s… you know, outside of a locker room, much less touched one.”

Austin chuckled. “Sweetheart, just do what comes natural.”

Reaching over, I grabbed my booties and started pulling them on. I didn’t like talking about this subject, especially with Austin. If it was Brandon then that would be different.

“I better go.”

He rolled his eyes. “You can run away from the problem, Kayla, and it will be a problem, very soon. Take my word for it.”

Once I zipped up one bootie I looked up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Austin closed up the pizza box and started cleaning up. “Brandon had a regular source for over a year. He’s never gone a few weeks without, and that was during holidays. At school he’s used to it three or four times a week. He’s been without ever since October. I can tell you he’s reaching his breaking point.”

He shrugged. “I’m just sayin’, shit or get off the pot, girlfriend. Either that or don’t be all surprised and outraged when he strays.”

My first impulse was to defend Brandon’s honor, but everything Austin was saying hit a little too close to home. Instead of refuting his comments, I zipped up my other boot and stood.

“Thanks for the pizza.”

The look on his face held something akin to pity for me and I knew I had to get out of there or listen to how holding true to my values was going to destroy my first real relationship with a boy.

Austin walked me to the door and gave me a parting thought. “I know you’re new to the scene. If you need some advice on how to do anything, then give me a call.”

I looked back at him, searching for some hidden lascivious meaning behind his words, but there was nothing there but honesty.

“I’m just saying, Brandon is… uh, knowledgeable and he’s not small or average for that matter. It can be pretty daunting especially for someone just starting off.”

No duh. I was almost terrified at the thought.

“Have you and he…?” I said, not really wanting to hear a positive answer.

Austin grinned. “I’m a top and he’s not my type, too masculine; besides, he has this thing for you.”

I couldn’t tell you how relieved I was to hear that. It was pretty hypocritical of me not caring about how many girls Brandon had been with or exactly the way he had, but the thought of him being with Austin made me queasy. I didn’t know exactly why. I mean Austin is a cute guy, don’t get me wrong. I was obviously deranged and most probably brain damaged. Maybe I was dropped on my head as a child. That would explain so much.

~O~

When I returned to Society House I noted a few girls still in the lounge trying all manner of makeup on each other like they were thirteen and had just been gifted with their first ever pallet of eye shadow. It made me somewhat jealous that I’d never had that opportunity as a child.

“You’re back?”

I looked up, to the top of the stairs to see Carrie standing there with a hopeful look on her face, and nodded.

“My appointment was canceled at the last minute,” I said. “Do you want to go through your stuff while I have a couple of free hours?”

“Yes!” Her eyes sparkled and she pumped her fist in the air.

It was difficult to be morose when there was someone out there looking for any chance to be in your company.

As I ascended the stairs I realized that I was depressed at Brandon’s absence without so much as a phone call to let me know what was going on. He was usually better mannered than that. It made me wonder if something really bad had happened to make him forget. I was tempted to call him, but thought it better if I didn’t. Who knows what he was doing or if he was stressed enough to make a bad decision, like answering the phone while driving like crazy to get home.

Yes, my mind goes off on these worst case scenarios sometimes. Most of the time it winds up being nothing, but I still feel nervous until I know for sure.

I walked into Carrie’s room and noted that she’d made it much more personal for herself. While we were still living one to a room, the girls could use the entire space as their own.

We spent a good hours going through all her clothes and setting aside the more overly conservative ones. They just didn’t go with her personality at all. Being even shorter than me, we went with a cute look more than anything else. She still had several formal outfits that I really liked, for special occasions when cute just wouldn’t cut it.

“Are you sure you don’t mind being thought of as cute? I know some girls can’t stand it.”

Carrie shook her head with a smile. “I’ve never been just cute before.”

I found that highly doubtful. “How about when you were a little girl?”

Again, she shook her head. “Tomboy.”

With a smile I reached around and hugged her. “Well those days are over, honey. You’ll definitely need some more color in here, maybe some more OTK socks, a couple of nice sweaters, definitely a colorful knee coat and some hair accessories.”

Carrie bounced happily on her bed. “That sounds good. When can we go?”

Sitting down beside her, I patted her knee. “The mall is on the other side of the city and we don’t have a car, sweetie.”

She just grinned at me and grabbed the landline phone beside her bed. “Taxis take credit cards, Kayla. Believe me; I used to use them all the time to get to the tattoo and piercing parlor.”

“I thought the card was for your necessities?”

She shrugged. “Well we have to have a way to get there, right?”

I couldn’t really argue with that line of thought. “Okay. Change into something that you can get out of quickly. We only have a few hours until the stores close. It’s Sunday after all. I’ll go down and get changed.”

On the way down, I stuck my head into Avery’s room and she looked up with a smile. “Hey!”

“Hey! Carrie and I are going to mall. Wanna come?”

Avery nearly shot out of her chair. “Oh! Excellent! I totally forgot to bring my Navy ballet shoes from home. Now I can get something better!”

Avery can get excitable when it comes to shopping in case you haven’t guessed.

“Ten minutes, I’ve got to go change.”

~O~

The three hours we had left were spent hitting the most likely places to acquire what Carrie needed. It’s one of the reasons I invited Avery. She had much more experience in shopping than I did and could plan a full frontal assault on any mall in a hundred mile radius of the campus with minimal effort.

All she needed was to know the general look we were going for and corners were cut from our time looking around, literally. What I’m saying is that sometimes she’d grab my hand and I’d grab Carrie’s until we were pulled into some Employee’s Only back door and emerged directly into a store that had exactly what we were looking for. It was seriously weird.

Avery is a shopping goddess.

When we came in the back way to Nine West and were eyed by the staff, it only took a moment to see recognition on their faces.

“Hi Avery!” they said with a wave.

That’s when I spotted them. They were the knee boots I was looking at during my shopping trip to the mall with my mom, but they didn’t have my size. Avery went off to find her shoes and I immediately grabbed the boot waving it to one of the salespeople.

“Do you have this in a nine? Please tell me you do.”

She smiled and took the number. “I’ll check for you.”

“Those are so cute,” Carrie said.

“I know. I hope they have them. Oh, look,” I said as I pointed out a pair of pumps. “Those would look great with your emerald cashmere.”

~O~

They had my boots!!! And all was well with the world.

TBC...

Author's Note: Here's something that I've been working on for the last few months, on and off. I've got a few chapters finished, but it's more of a serial than a story that will take a while to complete. Photo Credit: Amye E.

Episode Five

“So Grace tells him take a hike,” Hannah said as she finished sifting through one of the sale racks at Forever 21.

Emma nodded her head in conformation. “You know he was after her for only one reason; that butt of hers.”

I shrugged. “It’s a nice butt.”

Hannah awkwardly looked at her own and frowned. “She gave me the workout DVD she says helped make it like that, but I’m not seeing any difference and I’ve been doing it for two months now.”

Setting a hand on her shoulder I leaned in. “Sweetie, it’s all genetic. Besides you have a perfect butt. It’s all firm and round.”

“You’ve been looking at my butt?” Hannah said it as a joke, but the truth is I always looked.

“In envy, honey.”

“My hips are too narrow,” she said and held up a hand. “And don’t tell me they’re perfect.”

“Well, they are.”

Emma laughed. “Y’all would make the perfect couple if, you know, if you were both lesbians and the Society let’um in and everything.”

I snorted rather unladylike and settled my arm across Hannah’s shoulders. “Emma, we have something to tell you.”

Hannah looked down at me. “You’re going to make me be the boy in our relationship aren’t you?”

I nodded. “Yep.”

She frowned at me. “I figured. You’re way too girly to be the guy.”

“Oh no, honey. We’re lipstick lesbians.”

“Oh, score!” Emma yelped when we were done playing around. She held up the cutest blouse.

“Gah! Enough messing around,” I said to Hannah. “She’s ahead by two now.”

~O~

After we had our biweekly game of Mall Wars, Emma dropped me off at the Society House and I waved goodbye, sighing at Hannah as I watched them drive away.

While I was still in a relationship with Brandon for almost four months I continued to hold an unrequited torch for Hannah. It wasn’t overly serious, so it didn’t mean anything. I just liked to look at her and play around. Besides, if she ever found out that I wasn’t entirely a girl I’m sure I’d be little more than a leper in her eyes, much like the rest of my friends.

Avery might understand as I knew she had a friend that was transgender, but it was a matter of trust, and I had been lying to them for seven and a half months already.

I was even going out of my way to fake menstrual cramps so I wouldn’t be found out for crying out loud. Though that wasn’t so fake. When it came time for my monthly cycle, I’d make sure to sample the chili at the cafeteria. It provided more than enough cramps to make it realistic. I know; gross, right?

This is my life.

When I got to my room, I hung up my new outfit and kicked off my loafers before getting changed into a nice set of shorts. A feel of my legs let me know I needed to shave them again. Waxing was for special occasions, because it was so expensive in comparison to the twelve for a dollar Bic razors at Dollar General.

I’ve become quite frugal as a girl.

I ran a bath and took my History reader in while I took care of business. Once I was silky smooth again, I was back out in the room, sitting at my makeup table applying much needed lotion while I lounged in a simple pink tee and short set. That’s when Carrie announced herself at the door.

“Hi, Kayla.”

“Hey, come on in.”

I was so proud of my protégé, as everyone has taken to calling her. She’s like my own little mini-me except she dresses cuter. While there had been some rough spots that Carrie had to iron out in her search for herself, it only took a couple of months before she was confident enough to make her own decisions… for the most part.

She had two outfits and held them up. “Okay, I’m going to the Spring formal with Garrett Peabody and I’m torn between these. Which one should I wear?”

Then she stopped and looked at me. “God, I wish I had your legs.”

I smirked. “You can have them. They take forever to shave.”

Like I actually cared. I even loved doing this simple maintenance on myself.

“Okay, deal,” she said as she laid the dresses across the bed. “Seriously, you have the best ankles. They’re so tiny.”

I sighed. “And they’re connected to my sasquatch feet, which aren’t.”

“You’re a size nine. That’s not gigantic.”

“When you’re five-five it is. If I was five-ten then it would be a whole different story.”

Carrie picked up my lotion and smelled it with a smile as she squirted some on her palm. “Try being five foot even. Even petite stores have trouble with me.”

She rubbed her hands together and sat down on the floor to take a hold of my left leg, rubbing the lotion across my calf while I was still working on my right thigh.

“You don’t have to do that, Carrie.”

Her hands froze. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

I shook my head. “No, but…”

She shrugged and began work again. “Then it’s no worries. I like doing things for you. You’ve done so much for me already.”

“We’ve had this talk before.”

“I know, I know,” Carrie said as she squirted some more lotion on her hand. “You don’t want anything from someone you help, blah, blah blah. Well, tough. I can do little things that don’t take any effort and don’t cost anything, like this.”

What she was doing felt really good. It was like a little massage and skin care all in one. That was until she moved to my upper thigh.

“If your dad saw us, I think he’d have a different opinion.”

She snorted and giggled right after. “He’d think I was reverting back to girls again.”

Her hands tightened for a second and then she looked up at me, frightened. “I-I mean… um.”

Raising my eyebrows I figured I’d deduced why Carrie was following me around all the time. “It’s okay. Don’t freak out.”

After she backed away, I saw her face redden. “I’m dating guys now, like we’re supposed to. That was in my past.”

“Carrie, I don’t really care about your past. I’ve told you that a hundred times already, and contrary to popular belief, that’s one SPFV rule that I don’t support. I follow it, but I’m not behind it.”

It was like everything I said just went in one ear and out the other. Carrie grabbed her dresses and almost sprinted out of my room and up the stairs.

“This is… too much.” Looking over to the wall, I flicked the intercom system to Avery’s room. “Avery, do you have a sec?”

“Be down in a minute,” she called back.

~O~

While I waited, I went to retrieve a tea service that I knew she was fond of when we had our meetings. I had everything set up in the office before she knocked on the door and entered.

“Uh-oh. Tea. That means trouble is brewing as well.”

I rolled my eyes and poured her a cup. “We need to talk about something serious and I need you to be truthful with me.”

“What did I do?”

“Not you… someone else, but I want your input before I go to Mrs. Burke.”

Avery stirred her tea and put her game face on. “Okay, shoot.”

“I’m bisexual.”

Her cup hadn’t quite made it to her lips. It paused in mid-air and then she sipped before putting it back down. “I figured.”

“Tcha! What?”

“Honey,” she said. “If you stare at Hannah’s butt any harder I think it might catch on fire. This isn’t exactly a state secret.”

I dropped down to my seat, stunned. “Oh my god, does she know?”

Avery smirked. “She was the one that asked the rest of us.”

Burying my face in my hands, I bent over the desk. “I’m going to die now. Can you please take my letter opener and stab me in the neck.”

“So, you’re going to dump Brandon and ask Hannah out?”

“What, no!”

She shrugged. “We figured that too.”

I may have been a little overly dramatic when I collapsed boneless on the desk. “I’m so embarrassed. I’m afraid to ask what else you guys know.”

Feeling her hand pat one of mine, I lifted my head a little to peek out.

“If you want to ask Mrs. Burke about altering the charter, we’ll be behind you.”

I sighed. “I was going to ask for someone else, not me, but I wanted to see what you thought about it.”

“Oh, Carrie then?” She smirked again. “And don’t go all drama on me like you haven’t figured out she been pining away for you. It’s cute.”

My face and ears were burning with mortification. “I just figured it out and Carrie accidently outted herself to me. She wouldn’t even talk to me about it. She just ran upstairs and I’m sure she’s locked herself away for life.”

“Ouch.”

Having successfully shifted the sexuality problems to someone else, I started calming down.

Avery sipped at her tea again. “It’s 2011. There’s just no room for this kind of repression. Some of the most girly-girls I know are lesbians; take you for instance.”

“Gah! I’m not a lesbian.”

“Bisexual, lesbian, gay; who really cares?”

“Mrs. Burke.”

“Point.”

With a sigh I pushed my tea to the side and slumped. “So you think that I should say something?”

Avery set her tea aside as well. “I think that the GLBT crowd is getting really uptight about us. I’ve already talked to a few of them and agree that femininity has nothing to do with sexual orientation, so why is it included in the charter?”

That was my main thought as well. “If I argue this and win, it might lead to issues that other people find offensive.”

Her eyebrows bunched. “Like what?”

“Well, the inclusion of alternative viewpoints and sexualities at Society House. Would you feel comfortable knowing that your roommate is a lesbian and you’re not?”

I could see the light bulb go off in her head. “Ah.”

“And that’s just the beginning. How about if the girl is transgender? I’ve seen the way they’re treated. Most girls don’t like sharing public restrooms. I can’t imagine what it would be like when private space is in the mix.”

“Well,” Avery said. “We could always do it like the dorms do, make sure that those that share rooms are the same orientation.”

“Segregation again? I thought that’s what we were trying to avoid.”

Leaning back, Avery smiled. “You sure know how to hit the big issues, Kayla. I guess there’s no easy answer, but I do know it’s not really something we can solve on our own. I think everyone really needs to be brought into this since we all live together.”

I cringed at the thought. “Seventeen people all having the same opinion, on the same issue, under one roof? That’s not likely to happen.”

“It’s all a moot point anyway. How likely is it that you’re going to change Burke’s mind? We’re talking about a woman that been raised to believe that loving someone of the same sex is a sin and changing your birth gender is a mental disease.”

I shook my head. “She’s practical. I know she’ll listen to my argument. She might not agree with me, but she’s always listened.”

Each of us mulled over the situation for a few moments before Avery dropped the bomb on me.

“Does she know you used to be a boy?”

I sucked in a gasp of air. “Avery…”

My best friend sighed and looked disappointed with me. “Kayla, while most people are blind to Austin Hamilton being gay, most of us already knew. That’s why we approached you at the party that first week of school. We wanted to know if he decided to switch back to the home team.”

Ashamed of myself, I looked down at the desk and couldn’t meet Avery’s eyes.

“It took me living here and seeing you on a regular basis to figure it out. You pass incredibly well.”

“How did you know?” I asked in a whisper.

“The psychiatrist you’re seeing specializes in gender issues. I saw her card on your desk one day.” Avery got up and smoothed her skirt. “Honey, it doesn’t make any difference to me whether you were born with ovaries or testicles, you’re obviously a girl; any idiot can see that. You’re also my best friend. So, in answer to your question about would I freak if I had to room with a transgender girl… I’d room with you in a second.”

My hand went to my mouth and I saw a tear fall and splash on the desk beneath me before I looked up and saw the compassion on Avery’s face.

“Thank you.”

She smiled at me playfully. “Talk to Mrs. Burke. We’ll be behind you with whatever you decide. We trust you, Kayla.”

~O~

As we planned for Spring Break, Brandon gave me a ride to the SPFV house where I set up an appointment with Mrs. Burke. Mom was going to come by and pick me up while my boyfriend went to spend the day with his family before we went back up to school. I was going to spend the break there getting things accomplished for Society House, like the carpets cleaned and the air conditioning inspected for the spring and summer months ahead. Besides, I was more comfortable in my new home than I was at my family home. Kelsey was going to be there and we still hadn’t made up. So being under the same roof with her was asking for trouble.

“How’s Nicky?”

Brandon shrugged. “The same, I guess.”

His brother’s boyfriend, Nicky, was seeing some quack his parents set him up with to cure him from being gay. That’s what all the hubbub was about in January. Brice, that’s his brother, came out and told his parents about what was going on. While they were grudgingly accepting of their son’s homosexuality, they had a major problem with brainwashing. When Brandon went back home and gave his brother his full support, his parents relented, again grudgingly and offered to help Nicky become emancipated since he was graduating that year anyway. Tensions were always high around them in the months following. It was severely depressing which is why I try to ignore it. I had enough issues on my plate.

“You up with all your arguments?” he asked.

I rubbed my hand over his as it was resting on my leg. “Yep, Avery played Devil’s advocate and we went through several questions I might be asked.”

He grinned. “Lady doesn’t have a chance.”

“Thanks for the confidence, but she’s got almost seventy years on me. Mrs. Burke’s been around the block a few times and I’ve had all of three hours of practice.”

“You’ll do fine. I know how serious you take this, so that gives you extra incentive. Plus, you know, you’re my girlfriend and that holds a lot of weight in these here parts.”

I giggled at him. “Of course, I should have just thought of that. I’m sure Mrs. Burke is trembling in her boots.”

~O~

Since we were in front of the SPFV house, I gave Brandon a chaste kiss with promises for more when we went back to school then I smoothed my skirt before heading inside.

The smell of fresh baked oatmeal cookies nearly dropped me to my knees when I walked through the door. Mrs. Burke knew they were my favorite with morning tea and she had taken to spoiling me at every opportunity.

When the kitchen door opened on my way back, I saw that there was a new addition, a walker. Knowing she was a proud woman, I didn’t say anything and only smiled when I saw her face.

“Kayla, look at you. Don’t you look cute and full of life.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Burke,” I said as I gave her a brief hug.

“I have everything prepared if you…”

Waving her off, I said. “I’ll bring the tray up. You go make yourself comfortable.”

She half-smiled half-grimaced. “It’s this damnable walker. I feel like an invalid.”

I was kind of surprised to hear her cuss, but it was her house. “I’d rather that than see you not be able to get around at all, Mrs. Burke.”

She grudgingly acknowledged my point. “You are always very practical, Kayla. See that doesn’t change. It’s always served me well when the tough decisions have to be made.”

It only took me a minute to make sure everything was present before I brought the serving tray up front and set it on the table before laying my purse aside and pouring two cups of tea.

“The cookies smell wonderful, Mrs. Burke.”

She smiled and nodded. “They’re a recipe handed down to me from my grandmother. Since I don’t have a granddaughter to give them to they’re all yours when I move on from this Earth and join my Herbert, God bless his sweet soul.”

I shook my head and set a cookie on a small plate for her. “Don’t talk like that, Mrs. Burke. You have a long time to go before you’ll join Mr. Burke.”

My benefactor smiled whimsically. “Not so long, especially if this degenerating hip has anything to say about it.”

“Just get it replaced. They’re doing wonderful things with artificial hips these days.”

That brought a chuckle from her. “The optimist as well, I see. Never you mind about my old bones. Now, you said you had some serious issues you wanted to talk to me about.”

I finished chewing a single bite of my cookie and sipped at my tea before setting it down.

“It’s about the charter rules, Mrs. Burke. I’ve run into a… snag, I suppose.”

While my face warmed, I wasn’t embarrassed about talking to her regarding such a frank subject as sex. Her demeanor made it easy, at least for me, to speak about it.

“Would this snag affect you or the girls at Society House?”

I shrugged my head. “The girls mostly.”

“Well then, it’s none of my business. What you decide, I’ll support.”

That surprised me. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Kayla, Society House is yours to run. The charter is yours to set. As long as the spirit of the SPFV is adhered to I have no issue with you setting your own rules.”

“The spirit…”

“Feminine values, sweetheart,” she said. “I’m not so old as to recognize that certain things change with time, but one thing should always remain the same; women should be feminine.”

I nodded with agreement. “The issue might not be as easy as all that, Mrs. Burke.”

“Tosh, is it something that you believe in, something that you can support when the naysayers come to your door?”

“Well, yes…”

Leaning forward, I could see the pain in her eyes it took to do so; she grabbed my hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “Have the courage of your convictions, Kayla. Do you think I let others decide what course I set my life?”

“No, ma’am.” Not a chance.

She gave me a short nod and leaned back, sighing with relief. “The SPFV will grow and mature after I’m long gone, I’m sure. Rules will change. We’ve set a course and hopefully left behind a legacy in you and the girls that you’ve brought into the fold. I know you’re a good person and what you choose to do with this will be equally as good if you remember to support your girls. You’re the future of femininity, Kayla.”

~O~

I was waiting for the hammer to fall. Mrs. Burke was wrong about one thing; I wasn’t an optimist, I was a realist. Things were going my way for far too long without some sort of karmic payback. While Avery came out and told me she knew about my secrets, I didn’t consider that overly bad news. It would be really nice to have someone I was close to, of the girl persuasion, to know about me, and Kelsey was absolutely worthless in this regard.

Carrie wasn’t returning my calls, so I did the next best thing. When I got home, I took out my laptop and revised the Society House charter with its first amendment. As of March 28, 2011, we would not discriminate on the basis of sexuality or birth gender as long as the other rules were followed.

With that accomplished I sent out the revised charter to all Society House members and published it to our website with the proviso that all complaints or issues regarding this change be sent to me. If anyone was going to take the heat for anything then it would be me, not Mrs. Burke or any of my girls.

My phone rang ten minutes later. It was Avery.

“Holy cow, you did it.”

“Mrs. Burke said that I was in charge of Society House,” I said.

She giggled. “Does this mean we can start having normal sex again?”

“No.”

“Spoil-sport.”

“I guess I’m going to have to come up with new rules for lesbians and transgender girls as well.”

“I don’t envy you your job.”

“Meh.”

“You do realize that we’re going to have an influx of your sisters come the new school year,” she said.

I took that to mean more trans-girls. This was probably a major coup for them, being openly accepted in what amounted to a sorority and encouraged to be as girly as they could possibly be.

“Well, we’ve only got a few openings left.”

“That may change once this gets out. Like you said before, some of the other girls might have an issue with rooming with a lesbian and stuff,” she said.

“I figured I could get their input over the next couple of months and work something out. I want everyone to be comfortable and I won’t put up with anyone being ostracized or anything.”

My phone beeped a call-waiting signal. I checked it and saw Carrie’s number displayed. “Avery, let me let you go, Carrie’s finally returning my calls.”

“I bet. Give her a kiss for me,” she said with a giggle.

I gave her a raspberry in return.

“Hello,” I said as I switched over.

“Did you do this for me?” her tearful voice said.

“Oh, so now you’re talking to me again?”

“I’m sorry. I just…”

“Carrie, have I ever made you feel that you couldn’t be honest with me?”

“No.”

“Have I ever judged you?”

“No.”

“Okay then. The next time you have an issue, feel free to come to me and know you’ll have a friendly ear.”

“Alright.”

“There, now that’s over I’ll answer your question. Yes and no. It’s something that I haven’t really felt good about supporting. I talked it over with Mrs. Burke and she’s letting me do what I want. So, feel free to come out of the closet if and when you want without any fear of me or others at the House.”

I heard sniffling on the other end of the line. “Would you mind not letting the others know I’m really a guy?”

I dropped my phone. It bounced off the desk and landed on the floor as I eyed it.

“Kayla?” I heard her voice coming from the floor as I stared at it for a few seconds before I lunged and grabbed it up.

“Sorry, I banged my knee on the desk,” I fibbed. “Um… I didn’t know about your gender status actually.”

“Oh my god! I’m such a spaz!”

“You’re not a spaz. Girl, get a hold of yourself.”

Was everyone in my life, including me, hiding something? And what’s the deal with the transgender thing? Was it catching? Was Avery going to turn into a guy in the future?

“You really didn’t know?”

“No, Carrie. This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

“But Daddy said he talked to Mrs. Burke about it.”

I nodded to myself. “He probably did. She mentioned that you had some issues from your childhood that you dealt with, but it really wasn’t any of my business.”

She groaned. “I thought you knew from the first moment we met. I was even dressed like a guy… well not really. I was kind of ambiguous I guess.”

Thinking back on it, Carrie was all gothy, and even goth guys wore bad makeup and dressed pretty much like goth girls.

“When you were talking to me about being feminine and how it worked so well for you,” she said, “it was what finally made me decide to straighten out, be myself, and tell Daddy. I just figured you didn’t want to talk about it when we sat down that first night at the House, like it was better left unsaid or something.”

It all started to come together in my head. That’s why Carrie wanted to use me as a role model; somehow she knew I used to be a boy as well.

“We need to sit down and have a real talk, Carrie.”

There was a short pause. “I’m not in trouble?”

“No, you’re perfectly fine, honey.”

“Okay, well I’m at home. I can have Daddy get someone to bring me back.”

~O~

We arranged to meet later in the week before school started back up, since I still had things to do at the House. The cleaners made short work of their job since they had the equipment and the manpower. I always remembered how long it took mom and us to do our own carpets at home. It was usually an all-day affair and we were dead tired afterward, especially me.

That brought on a frown at remembering my laziness back then. I freely admit I wasn’t the best son. My room could barely be called respectable since I had so many stacks of games everywhere. Once I played them through I used to just add it to the others and very rarely played it again, which in retrospect was a colossal waste of money.

About the only thing I did that could be called a chore was squash all my Mountain Dew cans and drop them in a trash bag so when I had enough I could take them down to the local recycling center and cash them in.

And here I was overseeing the maintenance of Society House on what was supposed to be a school break.

Kevin and Kayla are two totally different people. That becomes somewhat difficult to deal with whenever one of my old friends contacts me via email. It seems I can’t even think like Kevin did anymore. For example: Drew, one of my gamer friends, asked me if I’d mastered a new X-Box game that game out and I didn’t know what he was talking about.

I had to actually go look it up and sit for a minute to remember how it felt to play. I shot off a return email letting him know I was busy at school and never got the chance to play anymore. At the end I wrote, ~Love K.

I always do that at the end of my posts, and it wasn’t until after it was sent that I realized what I did.

He doesn’t really email me anymore.

~O~

“Mr. Williams,” I said with a judicious amount of surprise as I opened the door to see him standing there.

Carrie was behind him with a tentative smile on her face.

“Kayla, it’s good to see you again.”

I stepped aside. “You too, sir. Would you like to come inside?”

He gave me a brisk nod and stepped in while Carrie wrestled with the one suitcase that she brought home with her for break. Looking at her with fresh knowing eyes, I still couldn’t tell that she was once a boy. It was because she was so tiny. I mean I’ve known short boys; I am one. However, she couldn’t have broken the scale at a hundred pounds if she tried. I was guessing she weighed in somewhere in the low nineties, maybe.

“It’s so quiet,” Mr. Williams commented.

“Most of the girls won’t be returning until the weekend, sir.”

“Ah, quite so. Carrie, why don’t you take your suitcase to your room and let Kayla and I have a few words.”

I glanced at my protégé and gave her a minute nod saying it was okay before she dragged her luggage up, one stair at a time. The girl had no muscle tone whatsoever.

Waving toward my small office, Mr. Williams took the lead. I rounded the desk and unlocked the one drawer where I kept my important files. Retrieving the charge card, I set it on the edge of the desk, along with a thick clip of receipts of the purchases I made for Carrie.

“You should find everything there, sir.”

He looked at it for a moment before pocketing the receipts. “Are you sure I can’t talk you into holding onto that. I don’t feel right taking advantage of your aid for Carrie.”

Shaking my head I said, “I couldn’t do it and feel good about myself, really. If I was in the same situation I hope that someone would help me out the same way without putting a price tag on it.”

He nodded and then pocketed the card as well while I finally breathed a sigh of relief. Having that card in my possession was nerve-wracking. I wanted to keep it safe, but the only way to do that was to keep it with me, and if it was with me then there was always the temptation to use it. My chest felt lighter just knowing that it was finally in the possession of the rightful owner.

“How about the House? Are you in need of anything I might be able to provide?”

With a short giggle I shook my head. “There’s still a good amount left from your first donation, sir. We’re doing fine.”

Mr. Williams really seemed dissatisfied with my answer and it made me think of Carrie’s description of him always throwing money at problems or use it as a solution for everything.

“Carrie told me that you weren’t informed about her gender status.”

“No, sir. It wasn’t really my place to know. Mrs. Burke mentioned problems earlier in her life, but we both thought it should remain private unless Carrie wanted to say something to me personally.”

His eyes measured me, thoughtfully. “And now that you know?”

I was confused. “What? I’m afraid I don’t understand your question.”

His lips thinned and I could have sword I saw an eye twitch. “Now that you know Carrie’s gender status how does this affect your relationship with her?”

“Oh, it’s doesn’t.” I may have let loose with a short lived chuckle. “She’s still the same person. We may have more subjects to talk about, but that’s about it.”

Then it dawned on me that she never told her father my particular gender status, and the whole conversation made much more sense. My not so secret secret was still relatively intact.

~O~

“What did you two talk about?” Carrie asked as she watched her father drive away.

“About what you’d expect.”

She clutched her punk teddy bear close to her breast. It was starting to look overly worn. Its clothes were frayed and its head overly picked at as Carrie was wont to do when she was nervous. I could always tell when she was nervous about something as she always had the teddy in her clutches to fuss over.

“Did you want to help me fix some sandwiches for lunch?”

Carrie nodded and followed me into the kitchen.

“So,” I said as I pulled apart at the lettuce and she toasted our bread. “When did you know about me?”

She glanced over at me and then looked down at her work. “Pretty much when I met you. It’s easy if you know what to look for, but you’ve gotten really good with your makeup and clothes now. It’s a lot harder to tell.”

I gave a soft snort. “Well, I guess that’s good. It just makes me wonder how many other people know and never said anything.”

“From what I’ve seen, people that aren’t familiar with transgender girls know that something’s off, they just can’t figure out what it is. We’re lucky that we were shortchanged when they were passing out testosterone on the day we were made.”

I chuckled at her joke.

“Anyway, I’ve been on blockers since I was twelve and on hormones for almost as long.” She frowned and looked down at herself. “I just never grew anything. Mom is the same way in the chest area. I don’t have high hopes of ever having any real breasts to speak of. That’s one of the reasons why I was dressed the way I was.”

Shaking my head, I still didn’t get it until she explained.

“I’m just stuck looking like a kid, well, for the most part. The doctors wouldn’t increase my hormones because it would kill my liver or raise my risk for other problems, so my only choice was plastic surgery and I didn’t want to do that. So I gave up, stopped taking the pills and the shots, reverted to my in-between form and started doing bad things.”

“Oh,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

We finished making our small meal and sat at the table to eat.

“Then I met you and seriously thought you read me as a guy wanting to be a girl and encourage me to be who I really wanted.”

She made it sound like it was all for nothing, sort of. “Carrie. I really didn’t know, and I really don’t think it makes any difference. What I said then still holds true today. Girls — the category you fall into — should be feminine. It doesn’t matter if you’re flat-chested, or have no butt, overly tall, or have mustache problems. You should try your best with what you have.

I got a small smile for that one. “It’s kind of easy to say when you’re as pretty as you are.”

A scoffing sound erupted from my throat. “You haven’t seen me without all the fineries, Carrie. I’m scary.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

I shrugged. “Okay, maybe not scary, but I’m very plain. I have no body to speak of either. All of this is padding and prosthetics.”

She tilted her head to the side, looking at me. “You’re not on any hormones?”

“Nope, not yet anyway. My therapist is dragging her heels and it’s starting to annoy me. She thinks I’m brainwashing myself into being a girl. She hasn’t exactly come out and said that, but I can read between the lines. I supposed to work though some issues I have before she’ll give the okay.”

“I think it’s time to find a new doctor. I could hook you up with mine.”

“There are only two doctors in town that are covered under my dad’s insurance and I don’t want a male doctor.”

Her face moved in a look I was familiar with right before she offered to pay for something or gift me with something, so I gave her a warning look right back.

“I really wish you’d let me or Daddy do something for you, Kayla.”

I smiled at her. “You’re throwing money at the problem, Carrie.”

Her face turned pink at hearing her dad’s bad habits were rubbing off on her as well.

“I want to earn my own way.”

She nodded, finally understanding.

When we were almost finished, Carrie’s bear found its way into her lap again and I readied myself for the one subject that was left unspoken, but she never said anything. It was the one real reason that I wanted to talk to her to begin with. I had a boyfriend and I was pretty happy with him. Introducing her into the mix would only make things very complicated.

It wasn’t that I didn’t find her pretty. Carrie was very cute. However, even if I wasn’t with Brandon, I didn’t really think of her in that way. She was like my kid sister.

Yes, it’s an awful thing to say considering how she felt about being so juvenile looking. I’d never say anything to her regarding that, but something needed to be said, because I didn’t want to lead her on. Unrequited love is an absolutely horrible emotion to deal with.

After she put her plate and glass in the dishwasher, she turned around to me and opened her mouth, but closed it just as fast. I wanted to take that opportunity to open the topic only to realize that it would hurt her so much and I didn’t want to do that to anyone.

She just gave me a generic smile and then retreated up to her room.

Putting it off was only going to make things worse. Maybe I was a coward because I didn’t confront her about it, but then again maybe I just wanted her to be happy in some miniscule way. I mean it wasn’t like she was throwing herself at me. I didn’t even have a clue Carrie liked me until she tripped herself up on accident.

So, I made a decision, right there, that I wasn’t going to say anything about it unless she approached me. If she wanted to return to the way things were then I was willing to act like I wasn’t the object of her affections.

Though there would be no more putting lotion on my bare legs in the future.

~O~

Dear Ms. Konstantine,

I would like to meet with you, in private, regarding your recent decision to consider new members regardless of their birth gender. I’ve included an online application for membership in PDF form as required. Due to personal reasons, which I can explain in person, I cannot arrive in feminine dress.

I simply ask that you don’t discount my commitment to the values of the Society House charter because of this. I truly want to become a member and desire the opportunity to prove this to you.

Sincerely-

April Kellogg

It’s funny what you can find in your New Email box.

Taking note of the phone number, I picked up my landline in my office and made the call.

“H-hello?”

I tried to sound as casual and comforting as I could. “Hello, this is Kayla Konstantine calling for April Kellogg.”

It was a little formal, I know, but considering the circumstances I thought it was appropriate.

The male voice lifted up a tad in pitch. “Speaking.”

“Hi, April. I received your email and if you can make it up to Society House today, we can have a fairly private chat; otherwise, we’ll have to schedule an appointment after the school year ends. All other times are fairly busy around here.”

“Um….” There was a lengthy pause then it sounded like she’d made her decision. “I can be there in fifteen minutes, if that’s okay.”

That surprised me. “Oh, you’re already on campus?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I giggled. “Just Kayla is fine, April. I’ll warn you that there is one other person at the house besides myself, but she’s friendly. So there’s no need to worry about our privacy.”

“O-okay.”

“Alright, well, I’ll see you in fifteen minutes then.”

~O~

When we disconnected, I called up and let Carrie know the situation and to ask her not to interrupt considering the delicacy of the situation. She was almost excited and promised she had more than enough to keep her busy in her room for the next hour or two.

I pulled up the application and reviewed it. Since it was official, the name of Harrison Kellogg with April in parenthesis stood beside to let me know it was the correct one. Her GPA was impressive at 3.85 as a Junior, her field of study was Engineering, and her ability to pay wasn’t in question.

We didn’t have many requirements for inclusion. The ability to follow the charter rules was primary; everything else was determined by an interview with me. If I thought that an applicant was serious and not just looking for a cheaper residency, or some other odd motivation, then they’d be accepted. It was as simple as that.

The doorbell announced a visitor and I made my way to the front. I wasn’t really dressed for business, but I was always at my best for socializing.

Taking a peek though the side window, I wasn’t that encouraged by what I saw, but promised myself to see it through. Opening the door, I smiled.

“Hi, Kayla,” he said shyly. “I’m April… sort of.”

I changed pronouns, I know. The reason is because April presented himself as a man. It’s confusing when facing this sort of dilemma, so I tried to offer a compromise.

“Would you feel more comfortable going by Harrison for your interview?”

He smiled weakly. “I guess it would be better if I did since I’m dressed this way. Harry, please.”

Holding out my hand, I smiled brighter. “Welcome to Society House, Harry.

~O~

Once we were in my office and seated, I took in Harry appearance and tried to overlay April on top. It was difficult, but I could see some work already performed. His eyebrows were thinner than most guys and they were well groomed. His nails were a touch longer than average men’s and there was a thin coat of non-reflective polish to top. He could easily pass for a guy that was conscious of his appearance. I appreciated that.

Other than those observations, he was tall, maybe around six feet in height, a lot of it being in his legs, and not overly muscled, but I could see he was tone. His hair was just above his shoulders in an ambiguous style. If I had to guess, I would assume he’d been hiding himself for quite some time.

“So…” I said.

His eyes never met mine and judging by the rosy look on his cheeks I could tell he was fighting himself to just run away at best possible speed.

Grasped in his left hand, Harry held a leather portfolio which he opened and withdrew a picture.

“This is the real me.”

Truthfully, it was awful. The girl had no femininity, but she held promise.

“I know I’d need to have some better clothes than that…”

Very true, in the picture April was wearing some short shorts, very high transparent heels, and a baby tee, all of which had gone out of style a decade or more ago.

“… but I’ve been building a more realistic wardrobe that’s more practical, and I have the money to get more if there’s someone here that might be able to help me.”

Handing the picture back, I tried to remain positive. “Harry, I’m going to be truthful with you. We’re not here to build you into a woman. We’ll be more than happy to take a woman and help her along the way, but…”

The look on his face told me I was kicking a puppy or something equally as bad.

“What I’m saying, honey, is that you’ll be a woman twenty-four hours a day for as long as you’re with us. You mentioned that for personal reasons you couldn’t come here dressed properly. There must be no doubt in your mind about what is to come. There is no part time feminization here.”

He nodded, almost encouraged. “That’s what I want. I’ve been in therapy for over a year and we came to the decision that I need to move forward. This would be my life test. Do you… do you know what that means?”

Leaning back in my chair, I almost giggled. I was living my life test. “Yes, I do. So what are you waiting for, Harry?”

He grimaced. “I live in a dorm. It’s not possible for me to start until the summer. I know you don’t take residents until a new term starts, and I begin my hormones treatments in April…”

“So this will be for the Fall term?”

Harry licked his lips and finally looked up at me with the prettiest sea green eyes. “Summer if you’ll let me. Once I start, I can’t go back home.”

I winced, not for the summer session; I’d be there for that, but for his home life. Knowing some horror stories already, I could only imagine what his home life would be like when April made her appearance.

“You’re sure about this. Once April moves in, Harry won’t be around again. If he is then that means you’ll have to leave. There won’t be any second chances. You will be totally immersed in femininity, no boy clothes, no days without makeup, and you will have to look your best at all times.”

Reaching into his portfolio again he withdrew a letter and handed it to me.

“That’s from my psychiatrist. I asked her to write something up that will let anyone I know that I am very serious about this and that in her opinion I am an excellent candidate for GRS which I’ll be going through after my life test is over.”

I set it aside and leaned in. “Oh sweetheart, your life test will never be over. That’s why it’s named that way.”

~O~

Brandon wrapped his arms around me as I sat on his lap that evening and snuggled into his neck. Austin wasn’t going to be there until Sunday which meant that the weekend was ours.

“Do you regret dating me?” I asked, knowing the issue of our sex life was still left unresolved after four months of dating.

He chuckled. “I really wish you’d relax about this sex thing. I don’t mind waiting.”

I sighed. “I just keep working you up with no relief.”

“I have relief. It’s just manual instead of other ways.”

Resting there, I ran my hand across his cheek feeling the barest hint of stubble, and it let me relax, knowing I was safe and content for the moment.

By the time the college games were over I had fallen asleep and had to be nuzzled awake, which I highly recommend. I giggled and leaned back, warm and relaxed.

“It’s almost nine,” Brandon said. “Let me take you home.”

Once we untangled ourselves from his chair, he made haste to the bathroom while I checked myself over in a mirror to make sure I didn’t look hideous.

When he returned five minutes later, Brandon’s face was flushed, and I almost frowned knowing what he was doing. The only thing that kept me was that I knew he was denying himself so that I wouldn’t worry about his fidelity.

You may be asking yourself why I wasn’t partaking of other means, like the other girls. The truth was, I wanted to, and I was allowed to, if I kept to the letter of the contract I signed. However, it wasn’t in the spirit of what I agreed to. Mrs. Burke was always in the back of my head as my conscious. The way that I looked at it was, what would I not mind her knowing I was doing with Brandon? If she walked in on us and we were snuggled up in his chair, or kissing, or even mildly petting, I wouldn’t be embarrassed, but if she were to see me doing other things, I would feel like I betrayed her. That wasn’t something I was ready to deal with.

In other words, I’d be a virgin, girl-wise, until school was over or I was married.

Brandon took my hand and we went down to his truck. After closing my door, he hopped in the driver’s side and I found my way next to him, getting as close as I could while I contemplated a little fantasy of being married.

It was cute and I could see it kind of happening. That meant I could see us in bed sleeping together, but that was about it. I had trouble seeing myself as the little woman, cooking his meals and taking care of the house while he was at work. I couldn’t even imagine a wedding with me in the dress, and that made me sad, because I couldn’t figure out why.

Sure, I could force an image of me in a frilly white gown, but it was just me; Brandon wasn’t there. I don’t think there was any meaning behind that besides that we had only known each other for a short while in the grand scheme of things. It just made me think that our relationship was pretty much stalled.

I may not have relayed very well all the conversations that we’ve had about all the facets of our lives. They were pretty run-of-the-mill once we’d gotten past the gender gap of our unusual relationship. We’d gotten to know one another and we were comfortable with where we were at. I just wasn’t able to see it going any further.

Perhaps that’s what my therapist was talking about when she hinted about my commitment to becoming a woman for the rest of my life.

I didn’t doubt that was what I wanted. My question was, is Brandon the one I was meant to share it with, and how was I supposed to know one way or the other?

Taking a step back, I looked at all the people in my life that I was attracted to or who was attracted to me. Carrie, Hannah, Austin, Brandon, they all had their good points. I discounted Carrie and Austin immediately because Austin wanted me to be a boy, and Carrie, well… I actually wanted to be the girl in the relationship. With her, there was no chance of that happening.

Hannah was up in the air because I didn’t even know her status on anything. Obviously she knew I liked her, but I didn’t know if she knew about what was under my skirt and if it would affect our relationship if something were to happen between us.

Brandon knew it all and was happy to be with me, even sacrificing his sexual activity to stay faithful.

I felt like a heel thinking about all of these things while he drove me home. It wasn’t like I could stop it though. How do you stop thinking about something that has its hooks in you?

When we reached Society House, Brandon walked me up to the door and gave me a kiss goodnight. Afterward, I hugged him and tried to picture us not doing this at the end of our dates, instead, going inside and slipping into bed together.

I could see that. I just had to realize a future, visualize it, and make it happen. I was good at that. I could do it.

TBC...

Photo Credit: Amye E.

Episode Six

Finals week had arrived and I found myself in the unfamiliar position of cramming the weekend before the tests. For my first semester I didn’t have any problem because of all of my free time to study. This round I was so caught up with Brandon, Society House, my psychiatrist, losing two Society sisters because of the change in the charter regarding sexuality and gender, fielding phone calls, and simple daily life that I had absolutely no free time for extra study.

My only resort was locking myself in my room and putting a do not disturb unless it’s an emergency sign on the handle.

It didn’t matter, because emergencies still came up, but by Sunday night I thought I had the material down pretty well.

“You look seriously stressed, Avery said as we were enjoying a coffee with Hannah and Grace.”

I wearily shook my head. “After Wednesday I’ll be fine. We need a jacuzzi here for finals week.”

Grace bounced her feet as they hung over the side of the chair she was laying on. “Honestly, Kayla, I don’t see how you do it. I would have run screaming after the second week.”

Hannah nodded along and watched Avery reach over and squeeze my hand.

“It’s important,” I said. “The problem is I have so many important things in my life right now, and I really miss Mall Wars with you guys. Thanks for coming over tonight.”

It was Avery’s idea. She knew I’d been missing Hannah. It may sound stupid and contrary to what I’ve said in the past regarding my minor crush, but I needed to have her in my life, even if it was just to look at or talk to for an hour. She was always so relaxed and carefree.

Hannah leaned back and kicked her feet over the side of the chair while I watched. In a few seconds she was playing footsie with Grace who was giggling. I sighed and just took another sip at my mug while I glanced at Avery. She rolled her eyes with a hidden smile.

There was some noise from the stairs and when I looked over I saw Carrie leaping from the bottom step dramatically. “I’m finished! No more studying for me.”

Setting my mug down, I golf-clapped as she sat dramatically on the couch and faked falling dead with her head in my lap… conveniently.

My hand automatically went to her head so I could run my fingers through her hair which not only soothed Carrie, but me at the same time.

When I looked up with a smile, I saw Hannah’s eyes move away from Carrie before she swung her legs back around and stood. “I gotta go. It’s a long day tomorrow.”

I frowned but understood. “Thanks for coming by. I missed you guys.”

She shrugged and bent over to kiss my cheek. “Try not to have a nervous breakdown before Wednesday, Kayla.”

Grace did the same and I watched as Avery let them out and locked the door behind. When she came back to her seat it was with a knowing smile on her face. By the time she was comfortable, I heard a very light snore come from Carrie.

The little girl was amazing. She could fall asleep at a moment’s notice.

Avery looked at her and then back up at me. “Hannah’s jealous.”

“Of who?”

“Carrie.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”

“It’s the attention you give her.”

She’d been pulling this kind of thing for the last month, acting like Hannah actually liked me in that way. It wasn’t all the time or even often. Maybe once a week she’d mention something like Hannah misses me or something to that effect.

“Hannah’s not interested in me,” I said.

“I think you’re wrong.”

“She obviously straight, Avery. Why would that change just because of me?”

After she set her mug on the coaster beside her, she shifted to see me better. “Ever since you went go-go-lesbian and t-girls I see her looking at you. She told me she’s putting in her app for Society house after term ends.”

My eyes bugged. “Seriously?”

Avery ran her finger around the rim of her mug as she grinned. “Uh-huh. I suppose we’ll have to hurry up and fill the rest of the spaces so she’ll have to room with you.”

The last part was said with a giggle.

While the idea excited me, I brought myself back down to reality. “I’m perfectly happy with Brandon, and besides I’m can’t follow the same rules as you guys. I’m still on scholarship with the SPFV. They are very strict about that rule. So it’s all a moot point.”

Avery’s lips pressed together. “You know, with your grades you can apply for other scholarships. They aren’t just offered to high school seniors. Maybe a student loan?”

I shook my head. “This is a sure thing and it’s almost perfect for me. Besides, we couldn’t have Society House without Mrs. Burke’s support.”

“You think she’d pull it with all the girls here?”

“I don’t know. Probably not, but I’d rather not take the chance.”

She leaned back and closed her eyes to stretch. “You’re such a martyr. Hannah would be better for you than Brandon.”

“I think that’s a matter of opinion. Brandon’s been very good to me.”

“But he’s a boy,” she said. “I can’t picture you being with a boy even when he’s got his arm around you.”

Cocking my head I looked at her oddly. “Seriously?”

She shrugged. “Yeah. I don’t know what it is. I just know that you love to surround yourself with femininity. The only boy you interact with, except by necessity, is Brandon and Austin, sort of. Austin doesn’t count for a few reasons so that leaves Brandon. I mean can you really picture yourself married to him and living in a house with a deer head mounted over the fireplace, playing Suzie-homemaker?”

With a giggle I lifted up my mug and sipped at last of my coffee. “He doesn’t hunt. I seriously doubt he’d have a deer head over his fireplace.”

With a quick lunge Avery pointed at me, but kept her voice low so she wouldn’t wake Carrie. “There, right there. Did you notice how you referred to Brandon’s future by himself? His fireplace, not our fireplace. You do this all the time, honey. After five months with him you still don’t look at him as a long term prospect.”

“I…”

She was right. Even after Spring Break when I first tried to visualize us together, I went out and flipped through a bridal magazine at the book store. While I could definitely see myself in several of the dresses, mentally photoshopping my face on the brides depicted therein, when I did the same with Brandon and the grooms, it never looked right.

I was still attracted to him. I wanted him in a physical way, but I didn’t seem to want him for the long haul. And that was disconcerting.

Shaking my head, I covered my eyes. “Maybe I just need to have some sort of sex with him to get it in my head?”

Her face fell. “Are you serious? You’re trying to make yourself really love him?”

“He’s a good guy,” I protested. “He’s done so much for me. He supports me, and he’s a great friend…”

“Exactly, he’s a great friend,” she said with a confidant tone. “I’m not saying to kick him to the curb, Kayla. I’m just saying you need to really think about if you love him and if there’s any future for you two. If not, then you’re doing him a disservice by staying.”

My internal defense mechanism went off or something. “It’s only been five months.”

“And you’re not a pre-teen anymore. Relationships are different as an adult. If you’re dating him for companionship or sex or whatever, that’s fine, Kayla, but think about it from his perspective. He’s given up sex for you. The boy is smitten and in love. If you don’t love him, I mean really love him then what you’re doing is cruel.”

~O~

Sunday nights is when I usually revert to my in-between form. I’m talking about removal of the prosthetics, and my weekly scrub in the bath.

My hair was up in a shower cap and I leaned back in the overly sudsy water afterward trying to make sense of what Avery had been saying. My thoughts ran all over my current relationship with Brandon, every single date, and cuddle that I could remember. It made me so incredibly sad that I couldn’t make myself love him like Avery was talking about.

I pushed my brain into fantasy-land forcing it through a make believe wedding and eventually to the honeymoon, which I had to skip over. This was because while I could imagine making out with him, the final event of taking him into me always wound up being painful and horrific in the end. No pun intended.

Then I tried to picture us years later. We would adopt two children, a girl and a boy. I would be a loving and caring mother even when my baby boy grew up to be a slacker and eventually went to college on a SPFV scholarship and found out that he wanted to be a girl like his mom.

“GAH!” I rubbed a wet hand down my face. “Focus, Kayla.”

There it was again. I’d imagined myself later in life and Brandon wasn’t there. Kids were, a house was, me being a mother was, but there wasn’t a partner. Was I destined to be alone?

An inkling of putting Hannah in that position edged into my head, but I pushed it away, not wanting to go down that path. If I thought I had trouble holding myself back from a physical relationship with Brandon, I couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to be in love with Hannah and not even be able to hold her hand romantically without losing my scholarship.

~O~

Each final exam let me become more and more confident until, at last, they were over. I’d made it and I was still alive with one full year of academic achievement under my skirt. Once my grades arrived, I would have confirmation that I’d aced my tests and was officially a sophomore.

The last of the girls had packed their things away and left for the summer, while I was closing down the house for a week before first summer session started.

Only three girls were returning for that and April was moving in as well.

I checked my email one last time before leaving and was not surprised to find Hannah’s application in my inbox. Opening it up, I gave it a general glance before printing it out and replying that of course she was accepted; no interview needed. ~Love Kayla XOXOXO

Brandon showed up, bright and cheery, to drive me to my parent’s house for the break. He wouldn’t be taking any summer classes so this was the last we would regularly see each other. I honestly didn’t want to broach the subject of our relationship during that time, at least until I had more of a chance to really think it over and maybe get some advice from my mom or Mrs. Burke.

Instead, I treated the time we spent together as just another day: snuggled up beside him for the ride home, spent a good ten minutes saying goodbye after he took my suitcase inside, and waved when he left.

He was a good boyfriend and I wasn’t so sure where I stood on my girlfriend status.

Mom had her arm around my waist and waved goodbye with me before hugging me for a third time since my return.

“Fix your lipstick, honey. It’s smudged.”

I grinned at her and went to do so. When I returned, mom was seated at the breakfast table watching me.

“Honestly, Kayla. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were born a girl. You’re perfect.”

“Thank you,” I said at the compliment, though I didn’t like being reminded of my status.

It was hard enough hearing about it from my therapist every week. Every time I went to visit her it felt like I was reverting, having cold water splashed in my face. I may sound like I don’t like my therapy. Well, it’s true. I hated having to do it. I wasn’t accomplishing anything. Going to someone you really don’t know and telling them all of your secrets, then having them holding up your transition until they were satisfied that you were sane, wasn’t really sane sounding in itself.

She had my future in her hands and I hated that. I wanted to be the one that controlled my life.

“I admit that I was wrong about you and Brandon. You seem very happy with each other,” Mom said.

I smoothed my skirt and sat down, finally meeting her eyes. “I’m going to break up with him.”

Her mouth dropped open. It seemed like I still had the power to shock my mother into speechlessness.

“I don’t love him and it’s wrong for me to string him along.”

She finally closed her mouth and then relaxed in her chair. “Was he pressuring you into…?”

Shaking my head, I held up a consoling hand. “He’s been the perfect gentleman, Mom. It’s not him, it’s me.”

It sounded cliché, but it was hard to argue with facts. It really was me.

Mom sighed as she reached across and patted my hand. “Well I can’t say that I’m not relieved in some ways. The way Kelsey talked…”

“What did she say!”

Her lips firmed at her accidental faux pas. “It was girl talk, Kayla. I was simply worried about your first time. Anal sex can be painful enough with a normal-sized penis if you’re not careful. I can’t imagine what…”

Apparently, I couldn’t let her finish a single thought without interrupting with virtual hysterics. “You two discussed the size of my boyfriend’s penis?”

“Honey, you’re dating your sister’s ex-boyfriend. She told me a while back about his, um… girth.”

“Ugh. I can’t believe…”

“Why do you think I was so mad at Christmas when I saw him? The idea that he would have his way with you… in that way.”

The whole conversation was surreal. “Well you don’t have to worry about the elasticity or lack thereof of my butt anymore; thank God. I’m going to go unpack.”

“Kayla…”

Why couldn’t I have just one normal conversation with my mother without it turning into some freak-fest of galactic proportions?

~O~

For the rest of the day whenever she was about to say something, I’d give her a look then she’d pause and hopefully rethink any statements. It made for an interesting evening.

After dinner, Kelsey went to her room and I caught Mom and Daddy up on events, my grades, my tests, and Society House.

“What about your therapy?” asked Daddy.

“Moving along at a snail’s pace; thanks for asking.” When they looked at each other I offered up a little more. “If she won’t sign off on my hormones the next time I see her, I’m switching therapists. I’ll deal with having to talk to a guy if need be.”

“You’re giving her an ultimatum?” Mom asked.

“I guess so. This is ridiculous. I know who I am, I know what I am, and I know who I need to be.”

Daddy tried to be the voice of reason. “Honey, I realize this is a difficult time for you, but this is what they do for a living. They might know better.”

I looked at him, feeling somewhat betrayed. “Are you guys even listening to what I’m saying? Here, turn it around. Suppose that you’re the one who had to wear suit skirts and high heels to work, Dad. You wouldn’t like it too much because you know you’re a man and men have a different dress code. Only one person can say that you can wear a regular suit, but she won’t. Does that mean she knows better than you about who you are?”

It was a somewhat lame hypothetical, but I was too frustrated to think of anything else at the moment.

They just sat there letting a painful silence settle between us. It was sad to think that my one refuge as a child had become the one place where I felt most uncomfortable. Home had changed its meaning for me, because I was accepted at Society House for who I really was. When I was around people that knew me as Kevin, I was tense, waiting for the next rude or thoughtless comment.

Pushing up off the couch, I looked at the both of them. “May I borrow the car? I’d like to go to the mall.”

Daddy just nodded, lost in thought. Mom tried to be motherly, I suppose. “Do you want some company?”

I shook my head. “I want to be alone right now.”

~O~

Being behind the wheel of an actual car was strange. Having been carted around by my friends, sister, and father, I hadn’t driven once in almost a year. So you can imagine why I wore sandals until I got to the mall. When I arrived, I put my heels back on and locked the car up before taking my time walking inside.

While summer wasn’t in full swing, it was still hot. That’s why I wore a simple but pretty tank dress. Over the months, I’d gotten a lot more comfortable with exposing the skin on my body, but I was still conscious of remaining on the conservative end of sexy. That meant that the skin I showed was my legs, and shoulders, not mounds of cleavage or the majority of my back and belly.

The air conditioning felt wonderful slipping up under my dress and caressing my shoulders as I entered the mall. I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to wear anything but dresses during the summer.

Walking around, I simply window shopped. While I had reached the end of my debit card, I still had a hundred and forty dollars left, saved for an emergency over the last month. I didn’t go anywhere in April either so I had a little over a hundred in cash as well. I felt like the richest girl in the world for a little while.

The mall was crowded seeing as school was out for most of the colleges in the area and high school seniors were ramping up for prom. When my feet started hurting, after an hour or so, I made my way to the food court and bought a smoothie before sitting down.

Just across the aisle was the Game Stop that I spent the majority of my formative years playing anything they had set up on demo, much like the teens that were in there at the moment. I saw Portal 2 and Duke Nukem Forever up on the screens followed by a pang of melancholy twisting a little in my stomach.

I wanted nothing more than to get up and see if I still had my gaming skills, but looking down at my nails and their half inch length I knew it was a futile fantasy. I’d much rather have the nails. The length was much longer than what was in style, I know, but the more I grew them, the more I loved how they looked. Games came and went, but my femininity was me; it’s who I was. My doctor and my parents couldn’t take that away from me.

“Excuse me,” said a guy to my left.

I looked up and saw Charlie Crawford, a friend of mine back during my freshman year in high school. He’d moved to a different district at the end of the year and we’d lost touch soon thereafter. He’d changed, grown up, obviously. In fact he looked pretty good: well over six feet tall, short cropped hair, filled out with firm muscle without going over the top. Grace would like him; heck, I liked him.

“Sorry,” he said. “I know this is going to sound really cheesy, but I swear I know you from somewhere. Did we go to school together at Hastings?”

I smiled and shook my head. “I went to Scarborough.”

He snapped his fingers. “Maybe that’s it. I went to Scarborough for ninth grade. I’m Charles Crawford.”

Charles? He hated that name.

Lifting my hand up to meet his, I said, “I’m Kayla.”

He was genuinely trying to figure it out as the frown dropped over his face. “That doesn’t sound familiar, but I swear that I know you.”

I didn’t like lying to him since he was one of my friends for the better part of five years growing up. Odds were that I’d never see him again, and I wasn’t at school, so my scholarship was in any danger, so I told the truth.

“You do, or rather you did. We grew up together, met in fourth grade, and you moved away in ninth. We lost contact.”

His face was full of disbelief as he pulled out a chair and sat down, really looking at me, but coming up with nothing.

“I’m really embarrassed.” At least he was truthful and not trying to hit on me. “Were you one of my friend’s sisters or something? I think I’d remember someone that looked like you.”

Realizing what he was saying, Charlie doubled back. “I mean your eyes are really gray, that’s something that I’d remember… not that you’re not pretty or anything… I mean.”

His face was tingeing red and I’m sure my cheeks were pink at the flattery.

“Don’t worry, Charlie. I look totally different than I used to. I’m actually kind of surprised you recognized me at all. Nobody else ever has.”

His eyes dropped away as I saw him looking at my legs and then back up to my eyes. “I’m a face kind of person. I have to be in my line of work.”

Leaning forward I set my elbow on the table and raised my hand to my chin as I smiled. “What do you do?”

“I just graduated the police academy.”

I know my eyes sparkled. “You’re a cop. Do you have a badge?”

“Well, I’m off today… and don’t think I haven’t noticed how we’ve switched subjects. Who are you? What’s your last name?”

Taking a chance, I leaned back and sipped at my smoothie. “Konstantine.”

He blinked and then searched his memory. I hoped that he wasn’t going to be an undercover cop or anything because he wore every emotion on his face. The one he was currently trying out was confusion.

“Konstantine… hold on? I knew a Kevin Konstantine, but I know you’re not Kelsey. She wouldn’t be caught dead at the mall in a nice dress. He didn’t have any other sisters.” Looking back at my face I saw him searching and putting the pieces of the puzzle together. “Oh…”

“Hi, Charlie; long time no see.”

“Kev…”

“Kayla now.”

Again his eyes combed over me. “Whoa. What happened? I mean…”

“I woke up. You’re not going to freak out or anything, right?”

He kept blinking. It made me think he had something in his eyes. “You’re a girl?”

“I am.”

When Charlie finally got a hold of himself, he nodded and then got up. “Well, it was nice seeing you again.”

Then he left, joining up with two other guys about ten tables down before they took off and left the mall.

That was my first contact with my old life and it was less than stellar.

It took me another fifteen minutes to finish off the smoothie before I’d had enough. My hometown was a memory and it was slowly becoming a faded one. There was very little for me within its limits. With the birth of Kayla came freedom in more ways than one. All of my good memories were of college, even the ones that were less than satisfying. I was in control there. I was somebody.

~O~

“What are you doing?” My mom asked as I was sorting through Kevin’s life in his room.

“Boxing up all my stuff. I’m going to sell it and set the money aside for my GRS. Gotta start somewhere.”

She paused before entirely entering my room. “Are you sure, honey? What if…”

I shook my head with mild amusement. “Kevin’s gone, Mom. I don’t know if he even really existed.”

“Of course he did… you did. What are you talking about?”

Setting the box aside I sat down and crossed my legs. “I’ve been on cruise control my entire life. The only thing I’ve ever been interested in since puberty is video games. I mean, seriously can you think of anything else?”

“Kayla…” I could tell she was reaching for something, but even my own mother knew it was the truth.

“It’s a good thing, Mom,” I said. “I’ve got direction now. I know what I want. I’m happy; even when I’m sad, I’m happy. It may be because I finally figured out that I should have been a girl all along, or maybe it’s because of my duties at Society House or my friends or any number of other things. So I made a decision to pack Kevin away and sell him off because he’s not coming back.”

~O~

Wednesday of the following week I went in the SPFV for my evaluation. This time I got to drive myself. When I got there, the parking lot was empty save for a single limousine waiting in front of the door. After locking Mom’s car I put the keys in my purse and hadn’t made it halfway across the parking lot before the driver of the limo hopped out and opened the back door to the limo.

Taking a peek inside, I saw Mrs. Burke and Mr. Williams, Carrie’s dad, inside enjoying a flute of something alcoholic looking. Mrs. Burke waved me inside.

“Come, Kayla,” she said. “There will be no evaluation for you today. We have other plans.”

Glancing at Mr. Williams, I nervously smiled and slid onto the seat beside Mrs. Burke and fastened my seatbelt.

I’d never been inside a limo before and it took me a few moments to see how the other half lived. Needless to say, I was envious. Everything was all plush leather, thick carpeting, and most of all, it was clean. There was an entire computer setup and bar next to Mr. Williams and that led me to think it was his car that we were riding in.

“Care for something to drink, Kayla? I have sodas, or bottled water.”

“No thank you, sir.”

Turning to Mrs. Burke, I tried to take her in without being obvious. What I saw didn’t make me happy. She looked ten years older than the last time I saw her only a few months before. Her wrinkles, once thin and numerous were very thick, and with her pale face she almost look gaunt and frail.

“Where are we going?”

She patted my hand. “Lunch, dear. Relax. I already called your mother and arranged for her to pick up the car. Dominic will be dropping you off when we’re finished with our business.”

In a few minutes we were on the freeway heading downtown.

“Mrs. Burke…” I started, but she held a finger up to her lips.

“Shh. Enjoy the ride, Kayla. We’ll have plenty of time for questions and answers later. I promise.”

Mr. Williams made a noncommittal motion with his head that I couldn’t figure out then he did something with one of the controls to his left. Light classical music sifted through the car, and I watched as Mrs. Burke closed her eyes and smiled. While I knew I wasn’t being kidnapped, the whole scene was very disconcerting all the same, so I spent a lot of time looking out the window and staring at everyone that was staring at the limo as we passed.

When we reached the crowded streets of downtown, I looked up at all the skyscrapers wondering what it was like to come to work every day in a place like that, being on the upper floors and looking down at humanity, being one of the one percent. While I knew with proper motivation, education, and connections I could eventually be there if I wanted, I knew it wasn’t for me. If running Society House had taught me anything, at times it was being in charge was more trouble than it was worth.

I’m not saying that I regret my position or being a figurehead for femininity. I guess I was just wondering why I had to be there in the first place.

Eventually we stopped in an underground parking garage and the driver did something in the trunk before opening the door next to Mrs. Burke. Sitting there, I watched, almost in tears as he helped her into position in her wheelchair. Seeing her using a walker was one thing, but witnessing the strong woman I’d come to know over the last school year reduced to depending on others simply for getting out of a car was heartbreaking.

Once she was clear, Mr. Williams looked at me with a grim face and motioned to the door. “After you, Kayla.”

Maneuvering in a suit skirt, in a limo, wasn’t a practice I was familiar with and I was sure I’d inadvertently flashed Carrie’s dad at least once. By the time I struggled out I was sure my face was glowing red.

While I was straightening out my skirt, Mrs. Burke was halfway to the bank of elevators using the joystick controller at her fingertips. She looked comfortable using it leading me to believe the wheelchair wasn’t a recent acquisition.

We rode the elevator to the seventy-eighth floor, second from the top, and stepped out into a rather posh dining area, completely lacking of any patrons.

“Welcome to the Century Club, Kayla,” Mr. Williams said. “It’s one of mine, so be sure to make yourself at home, order what you like and enjoy yourself.”

Looking around, I was seriously impressed. “Thank you.”

I guessed defense contracting was a lucrative business, either that or Mr. Williams had his fingers in a lot of pots; probably the latter.

Once we’d sat, and attained our drinks, the conversation turned to me and my exploits over the last semester. It was pretty much a summary of my emails to Mrs. Burke, so nothing was out of the ordinary until we reached the amendment to the charter after Spring Break.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to get to this, Kayla,” said Mrs. Burke.

“Pardon?”

She made a dismissing motion with her hand. “I don’t specifically mean the lesbian thing. I don’t care about that. I meant branching off from the SPFV charter. Change is in the nature of the world. Stay standing long enough and life will wind up passing you by.”

I thought that statement seemed a little off, since the charter was loaded with a lot of stagnated rules.

“I’m not sure I understand where this is going, Mrs. Burke.”

She fingered her water glass for a moment before sighing almost imperceptively.

“I’m disbanding the SPFV.”

My breathing stopped when my eyes went wide. “But…”

“It served its purpose, Kayla. I’ve spent a good portion of my life attempting to reverse the building masculine trend that women have adopted in their misguided attempt to be liberated.”

It may have been selfish, but the first thing I thought of was me. My scholarship would be ended. I wouldn’t be able to afford college and unable to live at Society House any longer.

“They think that masculinity is synonymous with equality and it couldn’t be further from the truth,” she said. “You know all of this already. I’m quoting your scholarship essay, of course.”

“Martha,” said Mr. Williams, as he interrupted her train of thought. “You’re forgetting something.”

Her eyes locked on his for a moment and then she looked at me. She reached over and patted my upper arm. “No need to fret, young lady; your scholarship isn’t in danger. That’s part of the reason why Mr. Williams and I brought you here.”

Inside my mind’s landscape, I think I may have fainted from relief, but I tried not to let it show on my face. I nodded and looked at her curiously instead.

“Why am I here?”

Mrs. Burke relaxed back in her chair with a tired smile. “Later, child. Let’s enjoy our lunch.”

The next forty minutes was the most excruciating time of my life. A large portion of my new life, that I’d come to depend upon, was disappearing. Mrs. Burke looked like she might keel over at any moment and Mr. Williams was calm, cool, and collected, acting like nothing was amiss whatsoever.

I kept it together though. Propriety dictated that I should listen to Mrs. Burke and simply enjoy the meal, so that’s the face I put on for her. By the time dessert was served, I could only pick at the rich strawberry cheesecake. Instead, I concentrated on my coffee, taking small sips as we chatted endlessly over future ideas for Society House.

Once the meal was finished I thought we’d get straight to business, but instead we returned to the limo and went back to our starting point. After our goodbyes were said, the driver helped Mrs. Burke out of the limo, into her wheelchair, and safely to the house. All the while I’m still wondering what was going on.

Mr. Williams poured himself a drink of some type of hard liquor and leaned back in his seat, all the while looking at me.

“So, Kayla, tell me how long will it be until your GRS.”

My eyes widened and a jolt of panic ran through me. It was one of my worst fears come to life. Someone of authority and respectable power had found me out. Granted, a number of people already knew about my status, but that was because I thought they had a right to know. This was an entirely different situation.

“What? Why… um…”

He took a sip of his drink and then set it down, slowly twirling the glass.

“I make it my business to know everything about everyone that comes in contact with my family. That includes you. Though I must say that you pull off the masquerade quite well. You make a very lovely young woman.”

The tone of his voice wasn’t complementary in the normal sense. It sounded almost flirty or admiring. Coming from a man in his early forties, I was mildly grossed out. Mr. Williams, for his age, was an attractive man. If I was forty, I probably wouldn’t mind dating him, but with me being in my first year of college, the age gap was more than inappropriate. That doesn’t even take into account that his daughter was one of my good friends.

Needless to say, I was taken aback and rendered speechless.

“Come now, Kayla. I assure you that there’s nothing dastardly going on here. Martha and I only want what is best for you.”

Not liking the situation I was in, I grabbed my purse and made to open the door so I could leave.

“Stop. If you walk away now, you might as well kiss your scholarship and Society House goodbye. I’m sure the girls will be more than surprised to find out that they’ve been duped by a boy for all this time. Not to mention what the news media will make of your life once I drop your name and accomplishments in certain ears.”

That announcement took the wind out of my resolve to bolt. Slowly, I release the door handle and leaned back. My eyes were already welling up as I clutched my purse against my breast.

“What do you want?”

He shrugged and took another sip of his drink. “Don’t worry. I appreciate what you’ve done with my daughter. She’s happier than I’ve ever seen her and I’ve got you to thank for it. I want you to continue to do what you’re doing.”

His eyes dropped to my legs and then lifted back up.

“Your education is already provided for through Martha, and she tells me that you’ve also earned a clothing allowance as well. You’ve done very well for yourself.”

Swallowing my fear down, I defended myself. “I earned every bit of that, Mr. Williams.”

“Believe me, I know. You’ve earned that and much much more. I’m simply here to boost your education and rewards.”

“What?”

I was officially clueless at this point.

“The credit card that I gave you, do you still have it?”

Since I was to be away from Society House for a week, I made sure to bring it home with me. There was no telling what would happen in a completely empty house. So, I nodded.

“Good.” He reached over and opened up a briefcase, retrieving a manila folder before handing it to me. “Make sure you purchase these items in your sizes and insure that they are in your room at Society House by the beginning of term.”

I opened the folder and spotted several printouts of high end dresses inside. After the fifth one I closed the folder.

“What’s this for?”

He sighed, almost put upon as he glanced out the window.

“In my business, I am invited to interact with people, businesses, and government agencies, in order to promote and sell my wares. During times like these, Carrie’s mother often accompanied me, however since she is no longer with us, I am in need of… what’s the term I’m looking for. Ah yes, arm candy.”

This had to be a joke. He could not be serious.

“Ordinarily, I would have one of my female associates accompany me, but I’ve found that they tend to expect preferential treatment afterward. I’ve had to squelch two sexual harassment suits by them already, and frankly I’m tired of it.”

After finishing off his tumbler of liquor, Mr. Williams refilled the glass and added a couple cubes of ice.

“I want someone that looks the part, appears to be beyond reproach because of her interactions with the community, not to mention your reputation of chastity. You, my dear, are perfect for the role.”

“But…”

“No buts, Kayla. I’m not asking for your permission. You’ll be well compensated for your time and you’ll acquire a nice wardrobe including the jewelry that goes along with it. I’ll also be making regular donations to Society House that I’m sure will be more than adequate for some nice additions.”

Anger and fear were still coursing through me.

“I’m not for sell. I’m not a prostitute.”

He actually laughed at that.

“The naiveté of the younger generation always amuses me. We are all prostitutes in our own way. Have you not sold your masculinity for a college education?”

He chuckled. “I whore myself and my company out whenever I go to one of these distasteful events. So, don’t delude yourself any longer. You’ll participate and in turn I’ll make your dreams come true.”

That got my attention. “What?”

“Your reassignment surgery, Kayla. These things are expensive. You shall be under the care of Carrie’s doctor, and we’ll move things along much speedier than your current schedule. I have many contacts. In fact, you’ll be seeing your new plastic surgeon tomorrow for a little work. We must have you looking your best by July. It’s an election year and the committee chair for the Armed Services holds an annual fundraiser — ie: bribery dinner disguised as a charity event. I’ll need you ready by then.”

Before I could protest any further, Mr. Williams set his drink aside and proceeded to unzip his pants.

“Now, there will be no more protests. You will accept this deal and I won’t hear another word of denial. If you do continue on, I will be forced to be quite unpleasant and you really don’t want to see what can happen when that occurs.”

He undid his buckle and the snap of his pants, opening them up in the process.

“I believe we need a handshake, so to speak, to seal the deal. Don’t be shy, Kayla. This is what women do to get ahead in business. You might as well get used to it.”

~O~

We’d all like to think that we would know what to do in situations like this, but when some ludicrous circumstance like this comes along I ask you to keep an open mind and think of the situational aspect first. It was like an episode of Mad Men. I kept waiting for the director to yell, “Cut!” But that voice never came.

When I got home that afternoon, I ran straight to the toilet and emptied my stomach a number of times until all I was doing was causing myself massive stomach cramps. Even with the acrid taste of stomach acid lingering in my mouth, I could still taste him and what he left behind. I was living a nightmare conceived in times when men in power were certifiable assholes.

Sorry about the language, but I think the situations warrants a foul word or two.

All the time I was servicing Mr. Williams, I fantasized about having something sharp in my purse that I could whip out chop off the thing that was offending me. Sure, I would have eventually been outted to all creation, but at least he wouldn’t be able to put some other innocent girl in a similar situation. Plus, he’d actually have to explain how I got ahold of his equipment in the first place.

So there I was, crying with my head on the edge of the porcelain bowl when Kelsey opened the bathroom door.

“What happened?”

Her voice was edged with seriousness. We were still on non-speaking terms so there wasn’t much compassion behind the attempt to console me. However, it was obvious enough that she knew something out of the ordinary had happened.

“Nothing,” I said and I wiped at my eyes with the heel of my hand and scrambled to my feet.

“Kayla…”

Brushing past her, I ran to my room and tried to close the door, but she was there with her foot in the way.

“Did Brandon do something?” she almost hissed.

“No, leave me alone, Kelsey!”

She pushed against the door and I was sort of surprised that I was losing the battle to her superior strength.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

I pressed my lips together and growled with anger.

“Someone found out about me and they’re blackmailing me, okay!”

“What? Who?”

The cat was out of the bag, so I gave up, backed away from the door and tried to find refuge with the pillow on my bed.

“Carrie’s dad.”

Kelsey opened the door, but didn’t enter my bedroom.

“Who’s Carrie?”

“Ugh! A girl at Society House. Her dad’s some big defense contractor and if I don’t go to these stupid parties and hang on his arm like a stupid airhead then he’s going to out me big time.”

She gave me an odd look like she wasn’t understanding something. “Parties? That’s it?”

I bent over and shoved my face in my pillow.

“And blowjobs… I had to…” My stomach heaved at the brief flashback of the interior of the limo, but nothing came out.

The mattress shifted beside me and Kelsey’s arm wrapped around my shoulder. She pulled me to her when I couldn’t hold it in any longer and started bawling.

“Shhh…. It’ll be okay.”

“No…” I sobbed. “It won’t.”

She kissed me on the top of my head and rocked me for a few moments. “You trust me. Nobody treats my little sister like this and gets away with it.”

I pulled the pillow away and looked up at her. Fierce determination was on her face. “Really?”

She pursed her lips and nodded. “Now, tell me everything, from the beginning.”

TBC...